Ashes
by maddiemarch
Summary: What happens when it is the saviour who needs saving? Takes place several years after "To the Boy in the Blue Knit Cap" B/A
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One – Scars**

A year later, it was the silence that still haunted her dreams.

* * *

The floor had recently been waxed. It was an odd thing to remember, given the circumstances, but right away she had noticed how it had gleamed even in the weak ambient light that funneled in from the open concept office space at the mouth of the corridor. If the overhead florescent lights that lined the hall had been lit, it might have been positively blinding. That wasn't an option though, even had she wanted it to be. Every few feet, glass littered the checked linoleum flooring. Above each puddle, the ruins of broken light bulbs stared down from the light fixtures, the jagged shards reminiscent of shark's teeth.

Six heavy oak doors stood sentry, evenly spaced down the length of the hall, three on each side. From a previous visit she knew that the first five opened into modern meeting rooms complete with rolling office chairs and faux wood folding tables. There were windows in the meeting rooms but none faced out into the corridor so the daylight that filtered in from outside was trapped behind the heavy doors.

The further down the hall you went, the darker it got. It was only at the sixth door, the furthest down the hall on the left which, unlike its brothers, stood open, that a pool of white light spilled out, bathing the floor and adjacent wall in a warm glow.

_The proverbial light at the end of the tunnel._

In retrospect, it was the silence that was more unnerving than the dark. It was an all-encompassing silence, so thick it was nearly tangible. She had never used noise cancelling headphones before, but she imagined it would be akin to that. It was as if all sound had retreated from the building, like the tide ebbing before a tsunami. If there was a clock hanging on any wall in the open concept space behind her, she heard neither "tic" nor "toc". Outside, she knew that cars rushed past on the freeway less than a mile away but none of that traffic hum penetrated the silent movie that was unfolding in the single-story cinder block office of Advent Travel.

The Kevlar vest dug into her side. She had pulled it on hastily and only realized it wasn't sitting right that very moment. It was too late, as she took her first few tentative steps down the corridor, to adjust for comfort. Her hands were otherwise occupied now, keeping her gun levelled at the warm light at the end of the hall. The muscles in her shoulders quivered, admonishing her for holding her 9 Millimeter steady at shoulder height for much longer than she was used to these days. A fat drop of sweat raced down the curve of her spine at the same instant a cluster of smaller droplets broke loose on her forehead. She wiped them away quickly on the shoulder of her T-shirt before they had a chance to trickle down into her eyes and blind her.

Logically, she knew that the dimensions of the hallway didn't change, but the intensity of the moment played tricks on her eyes. She could have sworn the walls narrowed the closer she drew to that sixth door, encroaching on her until she had the claustrophobic sensation of being trapped in a trash compactor. She stepped carefully, every movement intentional, hyper aware of how loud the crunch of glass would be in the abyss of silence that enveloped her. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her partner doing the same, advancing with a delicacy that was impressive for a man of his generous frame.

Five feet from the open doorway they halted simultaneously, as if they were matter and shadow. Here, the silence that had dogged them down the hall eased slightly and she could discern muffled sounds coming from the kitchenette - shuffling feet, the low rumble of a voice, a truncated sob.

_Shit. He's got people in there. _

She knew that that had been a distinct possibility when she cut through the parking lot and saw the unclaimed vehicles, but she had dared to hope. The confirmation sent her heart rate skyrocketing and hardened the knot in the pit of her stomach. It took a conscious effort to slow her breathing, drag her attention back to the situation at hand and activate her training.

_Moment of truth._

Catching her partner's eye with a slight nod of her head, she motioned to a spot ten feet ahead of them on his side of the hall, just past a heavy metal door that served as an emergency exit. If she could sneak over there without being seen, they would have the room covered from both sides of the doorway. It would have to be her; her partner's size would virtually guarantee that someone would see him slip through the light. They couldn't take the chance it would be a wrong someone.

Ferreira returned her nod and, without words, the plan was set.

Inching forward silently, Ferreira craned his neck to peer into the kitchenette. Eyes locked on the light, her entire body tensed in anticipation of the leap that she was about to make, her hamstrings vibrating with adrenaline. She had to move quickly, stealthily. No mistakes, not even the slightest squeak of rubber sole on linoleum. She had to be a ghost.

Ferreira nodded and she took off like a flash, darting through the light to the other side of the hallway.

The second she was concealed in shadow again, she whipped around and trained her gun back on the doorway. The motion sent strands of her ponytail flying around to the side of her face where they got summarily stuck in sweat and tickled the corner of her eye. She shoved them off impatiently as she waited in nervous anticipation.

No outcry from the room. No gunshots. No sounds of pursuit. She didn't realize that she had been holding her breath until it escaped in that moment like a quiet gust of wind.

_Mission accomplished._

From her position on the other side of the door, she could now see the part of the kitchenette that

Ferreira could not. Between the two of them, they had a clear view of the small huddle of people who sat, side by side, along the back wall of the kitchenette. Their colourful shoes created a rainbow against the white tile.

The subject himself, dressed in a gray business suit with a navy vest underneath, alternated between the partners' fields of view, leaving hers and entering his, leaving his and entering hers, as he paced back and forth in front of the huddled audience. Dressed as he was, he wouldn't have seemed out of place if it weren't for the AK-47 that dangled from his right hand.

A tinny voice crackled in her ear, nearly making her jump. It only said a single word through her earpiece, but that single word flooded her system with relief and she realized she had been waiting anxiously for it since they first pushed through the glass doors that led to the foyer.

The SWAT team had arrived. Finally.

Her role in this whole ordeal could now change from rescue to hold and secure, to preventing any further casualties, until the experts assumed control. She was taken aback by the gratitude she felt for that; she wasn't used to intense field operations like this anymore and it was proving far harder to quell her nerves than she wanted to admit. In her most recent roles with Major Case and the City-Federal

Homeland Security Task Force, intensity was typically reserved for the interrogation room and didn't include the threat of an AK-47. That was okay though, the specialist cavalry had arrived and were on their way in. As long as the subject didn't appear to be about to harm anyone in the meantime, the bad timing of their arrival could be erased.

_Spoke too soon._

A tall, well-dressed and well-tanned man sat sandwiched between a middle-aged woman with grey streaks in her hair and a round-faced young man in his twenties. From the way he carried himself, even from his undignified position on the floor, she could tell that he was a man who was used to giving the orders, not taking them. His sharp blue eyes followed the subject as he paced back and forth, his struggle to submit to the will of the mole-like man before him almost palpable. The tense set of his shoulders gave the impression of a coiled rattler preparing to strike. Watching him shift his weight and turn his face up to glare at his captor, she mentally willed the man to hang in there just a little bit longer.

_Help is on the way._

Her telepathy failed in its attempt to charm the snake. Helplessly, she watched as the man sat up straighter and began speaking from his place on the floor. His specific words were inaudible but the deep timbre and sharp tone that floated through the quiet were clearly not meant to de-escalate. They were designed to provoke. Perhaps a sharp reprimand would have been appropriate in another situation and sent the smaller man cowering, but the roles were reversed now. This time the subject turned to his superior, cocked his head and pressed the AK-47 against the manager's temple.

_No, no, no, no. Shit!_

Adrenaline rushing through her veins, she burst out of the shadows into the doorway of the kitchenette and leveled her gun at the suspect.

"Police! Drop your weapon!"

As the subject lowered his weapon and turned, time seemed to assume an unhurried crawl. Ferreira moved forward to join her in the doorway and, in what felt like slow motion, together they resumed the call for the subject to drop his weapon. Her eyes (and she found out much later the eyes of her partner as well) were so focused on the inky black of his AK-47 that at first she failed to notice the other weapon that sat strapped to his chest, mostly concealed under the navy blue vest.

When the bomb exploded, time stopped altogether.

* * *

It was always the explosion that woke her.

Sometimes, she would shoot upright in bed, gasping for air; others, she would wake up fighting her tangled sheets in a panic, chest vice tight. This time, it was just her eyes that flew open. The rest of her body remained motionless, as tight as twisted cable. Her pulse thudded in her ears and her skin tingled from the tip of her toes to the crown of her head. Her senses were on high alert, eyes straining through the dark for the nameless enemy, prey deciding whether to fight, flight or freeze.

It took over five minutes for her parasympathetic nervous system to wrangle control of her body from its panic. Slowly, muscle by muscle, her arms and legs relaxed and her breath came easier. Her eyes drifted closed again, her heart slowed and the nauseous feeling in her gut abated slightly. It was only when she started to shiver that her brain finally registered that she was soaked in sweat right through to the mattress.

Wearily, Alex Eames pulled herself up to a sitting position and threw her legs over the side of the bed.

The red numbers of the alarm clock on her bedside table read 3:02 AM. The dreams had been early tonight.

Pushing herself to her feet, Alex walked stiffly toward her small ensuite bathroom, muscles aching from the prolonged tension of an indeterminate number of hours. What time had she fallen asleep again? It felt like mere minutes. Stopping briefly at the open bedroom window, she allowed the breeze to drift over her damp skin and raise gooseflesh. Outside, a car idled partway down the street and rock music emanated from an open garage a few houses away.

In the tiny en-suite, the face that stared back at her from the mirror was haggard, worn down by too many nights like this one. She soaked a washcloth in water as icy as the tap would permit and pressed it against her face, the prick of the cold water against her skin a welcome distraction from the aches throughout her body. When she dropped the cloth back into the basin and returned her eyes to the reflection before her, the scar on her right cheek where the shrapnel had kissed her face glowed bright red and angry. It wasn't a large scar at all, in fact most people never noticed it, but on nights like this it seemed to dominate her entire face. With a sigh, Alex scrubbed at it with the palm of her hand as if that could make it disappear.

Sometimes on nights like this she was able to flop back in bed and fall asleep quickly, completely exhausted.

Tonight was not one of those nights.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 – Opportunities**

It was the fifth time he had called in two days.

"No, no, Mr. DiPaolo. That won't be necessary. You've already been more than helpful . . ."

". . . I appreciate you taking the time to call . . ."

". . . Yes, of course. If I have any questions, I'll let you know. Have a good day."

With a groan that escaped much louder than she intended, Alex dropped the phone receiver heavily back into the cradle, closed her eyes, propped her elbows on her desk and lowered her head into her hands. The headache that had been soft shoeing around her temples since she woke that morning abruptly detached and oozed across her forehead. In a futile attempt to stave off an imminent migraine, she pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes until pinpricks of light flickered behind her eyelids.

_It is going to be a Long. Ass. Day._

Cognizant that any colleague passing by her tiny office had an unobstructed view through the glass door, Alex only allowed herself a few moments of visible weariness before she took a deep breath, raised her head and opened her eyes. The sights, sounds and smells of the squad room immediately seeped back into her workspace in the far left corner of the room. The gunmetal gray desks. The dented lockers. The detritus of take away meals. Body odour and stale sweat. The trilling of phones and the hum of many competing voices. It was all so close, and yet miles away.

The detectives who currently occupied the expansive squad room bustled about like worker bees, moving between desks, photocopiers, offices and interrogation rooms as if flitting between flowers. A swarm of them had gathered around the coffee machine, chipped mugs in hand. Ferreira was among them that day, consulting on some joint Major Case-Homeland Security business. She had seen him come in, leaning heavily on his cane. He had lifted his hand in greeting as he limped past her but hadn't approached. Now he sat on the corner of a desk, laughing with the group. It was an extremely familiar scene, a recognizable morning routine; one that she had participated in many times that suddenly seemed alien. The buzz of the squad room used to energize her, motivate her in the pursuit of justice.

Now, it just made her feel sad.

Alex had been working the Major Case Tip Line for the last four months. After her release from the hospital and grudging completion of the prescribed recovery time, she had returned to the joint City-Federal Homeland Security Task Force, ready to take on the world. It was the world that was not ready for her. Minutes after pulling her chair up to her desk, she had sensed it. The earth seemed to be spinning on a slightly different axis. Her colleagues spoke to her differently – gentler somehow. Although welcoming, they seemed hesitant to ask anything of her, as though she were fragile and in need of shielding from the day-to-day ugliness that was inherent in the job. As a woman who had successfully advanced in a male-dominated profession, she had been immediately annoyed by that and resentful.

_I'm not broken, dammit._

Then, to her own disgust, she had proved them right.

It was small things at first – jumping at the slam of a locker door, the avoidance of the claustrophobic confines of the elevator, breaking out into a cold sweat any time she touched her gun. Once she transitioned back to the field however, it progressed quickly to behaviours she could no longer hide or brush off - panic attacks before entering buildings, vomiting at crime scenes. She wasn't stupid – she knew it was a mixture of survivor's guilt and post traumatic stress disorder. She had worked through both during her mandatory post-incident counselling sessions, had a million strategies in her toolkit she could employ, and still she couldn't get it under control. After many sleepless nights, Alex made the decision to request a transfer back to Major Case, where she knew she could add value. The mixture of sympathy and relief she saw in her captain's eyes as he granted her request made her both furious and ashamed.

The problems persisted at Major Case. She had difficulty gelling with her new partner, repeatedly made rookie mistakes, and overlooked things she shouldn't have and wouldn't have in her prime. No matter how many hours she worked, how deeply she immersed herself into her cases, she struggled to do anything right. When Captain Hannah had asked her to step into his office one day at the end of her shift, she knew that her number was up. Alex had raged silently at herself as he awkwardly suggested that "maybe" it would be best if she took on an administrative support role, "just for a while", to give herself more time to heal. Alex had tried to argue that she was fully healed, to explain that if she just tried harder things would get better. Hannah's face was kind as he told her that it wasn't a request. It was an order.

So there she sat, trapped in a small glass cell for eight hours a day, fielding calls from people like Mr. DiPaolo, who had a variety of wild theories (ranging from the Illuminati to the President's Secret Service) about who was culpable for the recent stabbing of a high profile IT contractor. All the while, the life that she loved and coveted more than almost anything else went on without her, right before her eyes.

_Back to work, Eames. Feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to change a thing._

With a sigh, Alex straightened up, tore her gaze from the hive of activity before her and placed her fingers on the keyboard. She paused for only a moment to collect her thoughts before entering the conversation with Mr. DiPaolo into the Major Case database and connecting it to the appropriate file. It was in no way a helpful tip, but there needed to be a record just in case. Her fingertips hovered near the "k" and "o" while she debated adding "kook" as a footnote to her comments. Deciding to err on the side of professionalism, she grabbed her mouse and clicked "Save" instead.

* * *

She was cleaning off her desk for the day when Captain Hannah appeared in the doorway of her office.

"Another day, another dollar, huh?"

Alex glanced up at him with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes before resuming her attempts to shove a file into an already overflowing drawer.

"Yeah, something like that. Living the dream. How has your day been?"

"Good, it's been good." Hannah leaned casually against the right side of the door frame, arms folded across his chest. He watched her struggle with the file for another minute before clearing his throat. "Do you have a second?"

A tendril of dread uncurled lazily and stretched itself out in Alex's gut. Although she respected Hannah a great deal and couldn't argue or disagree with his decision to turn her into an overpaid desk jockey, her expectations of her interactions with her superiors lately were decidedly low.

_No good will come of this_.

"Of course. Come in." Alex motioned to a straight-back chair that was shoved against the left wall of her office, parallel to her desk. Hannah pulled the chair out to sit opposite her before lowering himself into it carefully. She watched him adjust his suit jacket before sinking down onto her own chair, folding her hands over her stomach and waiting resignedly for the latest axe to fall.

Hannah rolled his shoulders and settled back in his seat before speaking. "I've had an opportunity come across my desk that I think would be perfect for you."

_Great. You are the first person in history to ever get fired from working the tip line. How low can you go?_

"Before you go any further, Captain, am I going to have a choice here, or will this be another order?"

Alex knew that she sounded like a bitch and that her tone was completely inappropriate, but she couldn't seem to tamp the bitterness out of her voice. That had also been a theme over the last year – what before people would have described as her dry wit had morphed into scathing sarcasm.

If Hannah was bothered by her tone, he didn't let it show.

"It will be entirely your choice. It's not something you have to do, but I do hope you will seriously consider it." He gestured to the tiny glass office surrounding them. "I strongly feel that this opportunity is much more suited to your strengths than this gig. We both know that you are wasted manning the tip line."

Alex felt ridiculously grateful for that acknowledgement and was horrified to feel the prick of tears at the corners of her eyes. She hurriedly blinked them away, hiding the emotion by pretending to scratch an imaginary itch on her leg. She had never been one to crave praise from her superiors, but in that moment Hannah's benevolent words were a life preserver to a drowning woman. She clung on to them while trying to keep her face impassive.

_Don't get your hopes up. _

When she didn't respond, Hannah went on. "There's an old friend of mine from the academy, just got hired on as Chief of Police in Portland, Maine. He called me today. He's got big plans for the department. Too big, maybe. Anyway, he is hoping to have someone work with his detectives, do some advanced criminal investigations training. Rather than paying for a course offered by some dry academic who has never seen a crime scene up close, he is looking for a trainer with actual lived experience. I immediately thought of you."

The excitement she had felt building seconds before came crashing back down to earth.

"Captain, I'm not a trainer. I'm a cop. I'm a boots-on-the ground cop."

_And I'm not even any good at that anymore._

Hannah crossed his right leg over his left and picked at a piece of lint that dotted the knee of his slacks. "I think you underestimate your strengths, Alexandra. You're an amazing investigator, one of the best I've ever seen in action. The Portland Maine PD would be lucky to have the opportunity to learn from you."

A small thrill battled with the tendril of unease in her belly. "How long would I be on loan for?"

Hannah shrugged, eyes still focused on the pleats of his pants. "Two, three weeks? Whatever you think you would need. My buddy would be so thrilled to have a real NYPD Major Case investigator work with his team that I'm sure he'd agree to whatever you want."

Buoyed by his overt belief in her abilities, Alex found herself already mentally sketching an outline of the training. "When would it start?"

"He was hoping for the end of June, beginning of July, which I know is a pretty quick turnaround. He can push it back if you need more -"

"I could make that work," Alex interrupted quickly. Not that she was prepared to admit it to Hannah, but there was nothing keeping her in the city either personally or professionally. All she went home to was an empty house and a blank social calendar.

Finally returning his eyes to her face, Hannah asked "Does that mean the answer is yes?"

Alex rubbed her forehead thoughtfully, mind racing a mile a minute as she gazed out into the squad room and considered the opportunity before her. A reprieve from her unfulfilling assignment. A change of scenery. The chance to help with meaningful police work without being out in the field. A challenge . . .

_And what if you fail? Again?_

She would never recover from that, and she knew it.

Excitement evaporating, Alex sighed and shook her head. "I don't think so Captain. I appreciate the offer but I'm not sure it would be my forte. The only training I have ever done is one-to-one with new recruits in the field. I can't imagine I would be any good in a classroom or with a group and I don't want to let you down."

_Anymore than I already have._

As if he had known that would be the answer, Hannah nodded and levered himself out of the chair. "It's your decision, Alex. I don't agree, but it's up to you. Anyway, have a good night."

He was almost out into the squad room when something dawned on her.

"Portland. That's on the peninsula in Casco Bay, right?"

Hannah turned to face her again. "Yes, I think so. Why?"

_Bobby_.

Alex and her former partner had drifted apart since he left Major Case almost three years ago. Life had been busy for them both and the emails, phone calls and meet-ups had become more sporadic after about a year. He had visited her a couple times in the hospital, but once discharged she was so absorbed in her torment that she stopped returning calls and emails and refused to answer the door. Eventually, he stopped coming around at all. She did remember reading in an email, one she had never bothered to return, that he had moved out of state about six months ago, to some little town in Maine, not far from Casco Bay. She couldn't recall the name of the town, but it would be in her email somewhere . . .

A sudden, powerful need to see Bobby again washed over her, taking Alex by surprise. The possibility of a reunion brought with it a jumble of emotions that she didn't have the energy to unravel. All she knew in that moment was that he was a connection to a time when life had been good, when she had been strong, and confident, and in control. She ached to feel that way again and maybe, just maybe, being in his presence would ignite a spark in her again that had lay dormant for over a year. It was worth a try, given everything else had failed. At the very least she could use a friend, and he had been her best friend for many years.

"Are you okay?"

With a jolt, Alex realized that she had been staring blindly straight through Hannah without seeing him as she deliberated. He still stood in the doorway of her office, watching her with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

Closing her eyes and sucking in a shaky breath, Alex nodded.

"Okay. I'll do it."

If Hannah wondered at all why she changed her mind, he never asked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Awkward**

He met her at the airport. She hadn't wanted him to, but he had insisted.

The American Airlines flight from JFK to the Portland International Jetport in Maine had been brief but irritating. Alex had never been a big fan of flying; too little control for her liking. The statistics on the safety of air travel were a meager comfort when you were thirty thousand feet above the ground. She would rather have been behind the wheel of her car, even if the proportionate risk was significantly greater. At least behind the wheel, there was the illusion of control. That illusion was far preferable to knowing with certainty that her whole life was in the hands of another.

Her discomfort was magnified by the fact that the flight was jam packed. Every seat was full, the fuselage crammed with a mixture of animated tourists and weary businessmen returning home after a trip to the Big Apple. To her chagrin, Alex found herself wedged between a snoring older man on her left and a mother and her toddler on the right. The kid had been in a foul mood for the entire flight, chucking crayons against the seats in front of them so hard that they bounced off and hit Alex in the legs; Mom ignored him, engrossed in a game on her tablet. Normally she would have tried to sleep to speed up the passage of time, but between the crayon missiles and the prospect of a potentially humiliating nightmare, she couldn't settle enough to doze off. By the time the plane touched down onto the runway, her white T-shirt and denim shorts were damp with anxiety-induced sweat and she was feeling exceedingly grumpy.

When the passengers were finally granted freedom from their metal prison, Alex had practically bolted from her seat, crushing crayons beneath her sandals and nearly bowling over the groggy man to her left in her hurry to grab her carry-on and escape. Once on the tarmac, she stopped for a moment to enjoy the cooling caress of the warm June air against her damp skin and, tilting her face up to the sun, inhaled a huge lungful of fresh Maine air. She had become so accustomed to the close, smoggy, polluted air of New York that it seemed fresh to her until she traveled outside the city. Here, the breeze took on a much more wholesome quality and she became acutely aware of what big city dwellers were missing.

Alex breezed through baggage claim and security much quicker than she had in the past. It was the first time in years she had traveled without her sidearm; even with all the appropriate credentials, that had always slowed things down considerably. If anyone had asked her over a year ago, she would have said she felt naked without it nearby. Now, when she had any occasion to hold her weapon at all, it just felt extraneous and unwieldy.

Before exiting the terminal into the Arrivals waiting area, Alex made a quick stop in the restroom to splash some water on her face and apply a bit of powder and some neutral eye shadow. It seemed a silly thing to do; it was only Bobby on the other side of the doors, and he had seen her in the hospital looking far worse than she did today. Still, she felt compelled to do what she could to minimize the dark circles under her eyes. The powder did help, but the mirror still reflected the image of a woman older than her physical years.

_Oh well. That's as good as it's gonna get._

There weren't many people left seated in the waiting area chairs when the terminal's glass doors slid open and disgorged Alex and her luggage into the heart of the airport. She spotted Bobby right away, and probably could have even if the area had been as crowded as the airplane. After so many years of partnership, she had developed the ability to sense where Bobby was in a room. It was as if there were some sort of invisible tether between them that she could follow and would always find him at the end. It was such an uplifting thought that she could almost have cried.

Bobby was sitting hunched over, elbows on knees, in a yellow plastic chair that was far too small for him. As she made her way toward him, wheeling her suitcase and lugging her carry-on, she could tell he was frowning just by the set of his brow. When she was about fifteen feet away, he suddenly looked up and caught sight of her. The frown inverted instantly into a warm smile that sent an unexpected electric charge galloping through her system. The subsequent flip in her stomach and flutter in her chest left her momentarily breathless and she took a few jerky steps before her gait smoothed out again.

_Pull yourself together, Eames. It's just Bobby. Are you that desperate for attention that even a friendly smile can bring you to your knees?_

When she was ten feet away, Bobby stood and shoved his cell phone into his pocket. His eyes never left her and his smile never wavered as she closed the remaining distance and pulled up in front of him. Alex was taken aback by how nervous she felt suddenly and was relieved when he was the first to speak.

"Hi."

Alex's entire body quivered with the urge to throw her arms around him and give him a big hug. That's what people who cared about each other were supposed to do, but that's not what they did. She could count on one hand the number of times they had hugged. Their physical contact had always been minimal by design – having good boundaries was important for partners, they both knew and respected that - but now its absence left her wanting.

Pushing the impulse to hug him down into her toes, Alex smiled back at him instead. "Hey. Thanks for coming to pick me up."

Shuffling his feet and bobbing his head, Bobby shrugged and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "No problem. Perk of being retired - got nothing but time."

Bobby looked great. She had noticed that immediately. Healthy. His skin was smooth and tanned and he had grown his hair out again. He wore it slicked back and curling at the nape of his neck. There was more grey than she remembered, both in his hair and in the short, well-trimmed beard he was sporting, but that was to be expected. He was dressed neatly in a pair of jeans and a collared shirt that he wore loose over his pants. Alex would always have described Bobby as a handsome man but now that he seemed to have shed some of the demons that had haunted him in the past, that fact was undeniable.

The words tumbled out of her mouth before Alex could rein them back in. "You look good."

As soon as she said it, she had a flash of déjà vu as she reflected back on a similar moment in time, years earlier, when Bobby had picked her up from the Staten Island Ferry on their way to a case. She had told him then that he looked good, and he had immediately changed the subject. This time, he held her gaze and smiled.

"Thanks."

* * *

She hadn't planned on staying at Bobby's.

In response to her submitted travel request, the administrative team at the NYPD was supposed to have booked her a hotel room in downtown Portland, just a ten minute walk from Portland Police Headquarters. She was confident they had, even recalled receiving a confirmation email the day before she left. When Alex sidled up to the reception desk at the hotel, however, they had no record of her reservation. That in and of itself would not have been a big deal, were it any other week. This particular week - prime vacation time and approaching the July 4th holiday – was apparently extremely popular with tourists. A large business convention, a state-wide horticultural society meeting, and a Little League tournament complicated the matter.

The hotel staff were duly apologetic, but at the end of the day they were unable to magically manifest an available room. The manager had called the other local hotels and cobbled together a depressing schedule that would have had her staying at five different hotels over the next few weeks. When Bobby had suggested she stay in his spare room instead, she had been massively relieved. She had protested only a few times, weakly, before agreeing.

The view outside the car window as they drove away from Portland was green. Very green. As soon as they exited the I-295, lines of majestic trees started to creep closer and closer to the road. The sun had to fight its way through their leaves in order to create dappled shadows on the asphalt. As someone more familiar with a less-than-aesthetically pleasing concrete jungle, Alex drank it all in, dazzled by the emerald display. The scent of pine and leaves floated in on the breeze while cicadas sang unseen, hidden beneath a quilt of greenery.

If the conversation had felt stilted at the airport, it was downright awkward in the car. The easy, companionable silence that had evolved naturally over the course of their partnership proved to be elusive now. Given the length of time they had been apart, there were surely a million things they could have talked about, but Alex couldn't seem to latch on to a single thought long enough to articulate it. The longer it dragged on, the more blank her mind became and the more painful the silence grew. If it weren't for the low warble of the radio and the sounds of nature surrounding them, it would have been almost unbearable. Occasionally she could sense Bobby looking at her, as if he too were scrambling frantically for something to say, but no words materialized.

As they drew closer to the juncture of Cumberland, Gray and Windham, traffic lightened and the trees shot up even taller, towering over the road. Houses here were smaller, more spread out, and set further back from the road. Lots were huge and dotted with gardens and children's play structures; yards were lush. The distance between Maine and New York City may have been measurable in miles but the two felt light years apart. It was such a departure from the environment in which she knew Bobby had spent most of his life that it was almost surreal to see him in this setting.

"Wow, living off the grid now, aren't you?" Alex commented as the road narrowed and the trees began forming a leafy canopy above.

Bobby kept his eyes on the road but his mouth quirked up into a small smile. "It's, uh, different here for sure. Not in a bad way though. It's quiet, peaceful. I was ready to leave New York."

_Ready to leave me too, I guess._

Alex tried to keep her features from hardening as the omnipresent black cloud, which had just ever so slightly dissipated, built up again over her head. "I could never live here. Too open for me."

Bobby shrugged as he turned onto a paved road that cracked and crumbled where it met the dirt shoulders. "I wasn't sure if I could either at first. But now, it just feels, uh, right, you know? It's grown on me." He glanced over at her, eyes glinting conspiratorially. "I guess you could say that it's an acquired taste."

Alex chuckled lightly as she remembered the moment, many years ago, when she had sat in the courtroom and used those exact same words to describe Bobby. It felt as if a lifetime had passed since then but nevertheless the inside joke warmed her from the inside out.

_This is it. This is exactly what you needed. Some time to reconnect with an old friendly face. _

"It's helped me focus on, you know, me . . . and also my book."

Mentally, Alex cursed herself. He had mentioned that he was writing a book in one of his most recent emails to her, yet another one that she had neglected to answer. It was a non-fiction "true crime" book about some of the more infamous and eccentric criminals he had profiled and apprehended over the course of his career. He already had a publisher lined up. She should have asked him about that sooner because it was clear, even through email, that he was excited about it.

"Oh yeah. How's that going by the way?"

Checking his rearview mirror, Bobby signaled and turned right onto a hard-packed dirt road. "Okay. Making progress. First draft is due in September and I think I'm nearly there."

Returning her attention to the road, Alex watched a cardinal dart out of the brush and fly beside them for a moment before vanishing again. "Robert Goren, True Crime Author. You'll be famous."

Bobby snorted lightly. "I sure hope not."

After travelling down the dirt road for about a mile, they pulled onto a gravel driveway that was nearly entirely obscured by unruly brush. The only suggestion of a break in the forest was an unlabeled black mailbox, its red flag flying. The driveway wound upward through the trees at a moderate incline and curved around a bend. Gravel spit from beneath the tires and pinged against the undercarriage. Through the thick trees, Alex caught her first glimpse of water off in the distance.

As they swung around the bend, the forest retreated to reveal a clearing and a large cabin. Bobby pulled the car over to the left of the cabin and killed the ignition. Lowering his hand from the steering wheel to the latch of his seatbelt, he hesitated only a moment before turning his gaze to her and smiling lightly.

"Well, uh, here we are. Home sweet home."

* * *

The cabin was simple and beautiful in that simplicity.

From the outside, it was fashioned to look like a log cabin from the olden days – weathered wood stacked one on top of the other and notched together at the corners, a basic black shingled roof that was peppered with leaves and a brick chimney that jutted up toward the heavens. A covered porch ran along the front of the building. The entrance was painted a deep red and protected by a white wooden screen door. The edge of a deck was visible out the back.

Inside, the cabin was much more modern than the exterior suggested. There were two good-sized bedrooms, one and a half baths, a faux wood paneled den and an open concept dining/living/kitchen area. A wood stove stood in the far corner; although no fire burned, the rich, oaky smell of fires past still lingered in the space. The décor was minimal and largely impersonal - minus a few pictures of his mother and his niece Molly – but the overall feel of the place was still comfortable and welcoming. The most cluttered space was the den, which, unsurprisingly, was lined floor to ceiling with shelves overflowing with books.

Bobby had showed her around, room by room, taking care to highlight where she could find all the things she might need. It was a side of Bobby Alex had never seen before – a proud host who wanted his guest to have an enjoyable stay – and she found it extremely endearing. It wasn't hard for her to exclaim over the attractiveness of the space and, with each compliment, he glowed.

They ended the tour in the spare bedroom where she would be sleeping for the next few weeks. He had already wheeled her suitcase in and placed it on the neatly made bed.

"It's a really nice place, Bobby."

Leaning against the door frame with his hands clasped behind his back, Bobby ducked his head in almost bashful acknowledgement. "Thanks. It is. I'm happy here. Happier than I have been in a very long time."

An ugly clot of emotion stirred in Alex's stomach, a motley assortment of feelings battling for dominance. The first one that clawed its way to the surface was far too close to envy for her liking.

_At least one of you has got your shit together._

Alex swallowed hard and tried a smile. "That's good. I'm happy for you."

Bobby nodded again and stood gazing out the window at the forest that flanked the cabin while she busied herself with unzipping and emptying her suitcase. When she glanced up at him a minute later, he was staring at her.

Suddenly self-conscious, Alex tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and raised her eyebrows in what she hoped appeared to be casual interest only. "What?"

_He's going to ask if you're happy too. Be prepared to lie._

Bobby opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again, eyes still trained on her face. He had just bit his bottom lip thoughtfully and cleared his throat when the creak and slam of the screen door signaled a new entrant to the cabin. Bobby turned quickly and vanished from the door, leaving Alex to trail after him, frowning slightly.

As she stepped into the large great room, Alex caught sight of a tall, thin woman with a mass of curly brown hair standing just inside the door, rummaging around in her purse, arms weighed down with plastic grocery bags. Sensing that she suddenly had an audience, the woman looked up and broke into a huge, toothy grin.

"Oh my God, you're HERE! I didn't expect you to be here already!"

The mystery woman dropped the grocery bags and rushed across the room, throwing her arms around Alex and enveloping her in an enthusiastic hug. Alex stiffened at the unanticipated contact but found her arms moved automatically around the woman in response. The woman held the embrace for what felt like forever before pulling back to examine Alex at arm's length.

"You're so PRETTY! Bobby, you never told me how pretty she was," the woman gushed, squeezing Alex's forearms lightly before pulling her forward into another quick hug and then stepping back. "I'm so glad you're here! Welcome to Maine!"

Stunned and mute, Alex turned to look at Bobby with the question in her eyes.

_Who the hell is this?_

Reaching over, Bobby placed one of his hands on the woman's back and smiled at her. She met his eyes and returned the smile at full wattage.

"Faith, this is Alex. Alex, this is my girlfriend Faith."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 – Good**

The lake was extraordinarily peaceful at dusk.

It unfolded before her, smooth as a sheet of new glass, as Alex perched on the end of the slightly lopsided wooden dock, gazing out at the mounting dark. The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the sky began its routine fade to black. The moon was full that night and brighter than she had realized was possible. As the light retreated behind the horizon, it ballooned until its reflection dominated the surface of the water below. The breeze had died earlier that afternoon and, with it, the small waves that had started the day lapping away at the shore. The only visible interruptions in the calm façade were the ripples made by fish scouring the surface for a meal.

It was easy to believe, out there alone on the dock, that she was unequivocally alone in the world.

The thicket of trees that surrounded Bobby's cabin ran all the way down to the water and blocked the view of any neighbors. The only clue to their existence was the matching docks that jutted out at random intervals along the shore. Across the lake, she could just barely make out the tiny squares of illumination that issued from the windows of cabins on the adjacent coast.

The day had been warm but the evening introduced a nip of cold to both the air and the lake. When Alex had first kicked off her sandals and slipped her feet into the water, it had registered as only slightly cool. Now, as the sky darkened, the water temperature dropped several degrees and sent sharp icy prickles of pain through the nerves in her feet. Together the cool air and cool water set her teeth chattering and sent shivers zipping along the surface of her skin.

Despite the chill that was rapidly setting up shop in her bones, she made no effort to leave. The physical discomfort in her body was a welcome distraction from the cacophony in her mind.

_Welcome to the Twilight Zone._

Today had not been at all what Alex had expected. She had accepted the assignment and all that accompanied it in the hopes of correcting the trajectory of her life, of escaping this unexpected detour through hell, but the first few hours in Maine had only served to knock her further off course. If she had felt off-kilter before, she was completely unbalanced now, so far from what she knew and where she was comfortable. The solid footing she had counted on finding was crumbling beneath her.

_Bobby_.

She had sought him out like the North Star, like the lighthouse in the night that would guide her home. Consistent, predictable in his unpredictability and instability, reliable. Always there, always occupying the same place in her world. But he wasn't, not anymore. He wasn't at all where she had expected to find him and that left her floating out at sea, lost, directionless. He wasn't the same Bobby that she remembered. For a reason that Alex couldn't quite bring herself to face, that made her angry.

_No, he's not the Bobby you knew. He's even better. New and improved. Bobby 2.0. What type of person does that make you that you would begrudge him that? _

All through dinner, Alex had been trying to put her finger on what exactly had changed. In many ways he WAS still the Bobby she knew – eccentric, intelligent, kind , gentle– but something had shifted. He smiled more often and laughed more easily. There was a confidence about him now, a serenity, a sense that he was comfortable in his own skin. She knew from the latter portion of his time with Major Case that his work with Dr. Gyson had been producing positive results, but the improvements had only been subtle then. They were far from subtle now.

And then there was Faith.

She hadn't expected Faith. The possibility that Bobby would have been in a relationship never once crossed her mind, perhaps because the entire time Alex had known him, he never had been. Alex hadn't either of course, not a serious one, but for some reason she had always assumed that she would find someone first. Once she moved past the shock of the initial introduction, she found herself analyzing their interactions far closer than she cared to admit. The genuine affection between them was obvious in the glances, the touches and the banter. Before long, Alex was feeling like a very clunky third wheel.

_And lonely. Don't forget lonely. _

It didn't help that Faith was positively lovely. She was one of those people you loved even though you wanted to hate – intelligent, funny, beautiful and charming. She immediately put anyone in her sphere at ease and made them feel important. It was easy to see why Bobby had fallen for her. She had a graduate degree, worked at a well-respected marketing firm in Portland and moonlighted as a yoga instructor a few nights a week. She radiated health, vitality, good spirits, energy and enthusiasm.

_Pretty much everything you do not. _

The whole situation left her feeling absurdly injured, rejected and inferior. Logically, Alex knew it was ridiculous and petty. Emotionally, she was bitter, envious and resentful. Just when she had needed him to be Bobby, the Bobby she knew so well, he had changed and left her unmoored. She could not get out of that cabin quickly enough. Once the dishes were clean and Bobby had seen Faith off with a kiss, Alex had immediately bolted outside, craving fresh air. He had let her go without so much as a word and she had spent the last half hour sitting by the water, cursing herself for coming and wishing she were anywhere else in the world.

The sound and vibration of heavy feet on the dock dragged her from her reverie.

_Speak of the devil . . . ._

Hackles rising at the prospect of his presence, Alex's entire body tensed until the edges of the wooden planks beneath her dug into the back of her thighs. A complicated blend of anger and sadness made her scalp tingle. She didn't turn to greet him, electing instead to stare down intently at the distorted image of her feet in the water. Gripping the edge of the dock hard, she clenched her teeth to try to stop the shivers that, just moments before, she had welcomed to wrack her body.

_No weakness._

She felt the soft caress of a blanket wrapping around her shoulders before he spoke.

"You've got to be freezing."

And just like that, he disarmed her. The misplaced anger drained from her system, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. At some level, she wanted to shrug off the proffered blanket and insist that she was fine, but truth was she was frozen. The blanket was warm and Alex drew it tight over her shoulders for both comfort and protection.

"Thanks."

She didn't turn to look but could sense him hovering uncertainly behind her. "Can I . . . uh . . . sit?"

"Of course. It's your dock." Alex's tone, which she had meant to keep light and airy, just came out flat.

The weathered wood creaked under his weight as Bobby lowered himself down beside her, unfolding his long limbs one by one. Gingerly, he stuck a toe in the water to test the temperature before sliding his legs down into the lake. If he found it cold, it wasn't obvious. A mosquito landed on Bobby's arm almost immediately and he brushed it away as Water Striders skipped across the glassine surface between them.

Eager to avoid a repeat of the uncomfortable silence from earlier, Alex launched into conversation immediately "So . . . Faith, huh?"

Bobby smiled as he looked out over the water at the last dying vestiges of light. "Yeah . . . Faith."

"How long have you been together?" She had been dying to know but hadn't wanted to ask in Faith's presence. Not knowing the answer to that question made her feel like a horrible friend. She certainly didn't want to let Faith know that she knew far less about their relationship than Faith knew about Alex.

_You used to know him better than anyone. Can't say that anymore._

Bobby glanced up at the stars, frowning lightly as he did some quick mental arithmetic. "Six months now I guess."

_Half a year. And you had no idea. _

Alex nodded slowly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The imprint of the whorls of the wooden plank was etched into her palm and she picked at a sliver that had burrowed itself into her skin. "Why didn't you tell me? About Faith."

Bobby cleared his throat and twisted his hands together in his lap.

"I wanted to. But you never returned my phone calls. Or emails."

It was a gentle, matter-of-fact statement, devoid of judgement or anger, but a hot rush of guilt still flooded her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, Bobby."

He shrugged. "It's okay. I'm sure you've been busy."

Alex bit back a choke of hysterical laughter. _Oh yeah. Soooo busy. Busy feeling sorry for myself._

"Faith seems great. Really nice." She meant it, but something still constricted painfully in her chest as she spoke the words. "I'm happy for you Bobby. You deserve someone special."

Bobby ducked his head a few times in rapid nods before clearing his throat again. Far out on the water, a loon called to its mate.

"How about you? Are you . . . uh . . . seeing anyone?"

Alex shook her head, finally extricating the splinter from her palm and tossing it in the water. "No."

She momentarily felt an urge to rationalize her single status but couldn't think of anything particularly meaningful to say so she stopped there. Sensing Bobby's eyes on her, she turned her head to stare out at the small wooded island that rose from the lake miles away to their left.

When she didn't elaborate, Bobby picked up the conversational baton again. "Things are good with you, though, right?"

A piece of Alex wanted to confide in Bobby, to reveal the hell she had been through and her continued struggle. That part screamed out in frustration, begged to be released, while another voice reminded her that she would have no idea where to start. And that she might not be able to stop once she did. It would make her vulnerable, and she didn't do vulnerable. It exhausted her to even contemplate lancing that wound so she didn't bother trying. She had been over the situation ad nauseam with her department appointed shrink already. It was time to press on.

_Fake it until you make it. _

"Oh yeah. Things are great."

"Yeah?" Bobby crooked his head to the side and leaned over, drawing her attention as she had seen him do a million times before with suspects and witnesses alike. She fell for it just as they had and found herself looking him directly in the eye.

Right away, Alex knew that he would see straight through her lie. It shouldn't have surprised her - that was his specialty after all – but she felt panicky all the same, desperate to allay any of his concerns lest he start digging too deep. Ripping her eyes away from his, she started to babble to cover her uneasiness.

"Oh yeah. For sure. Not living the retirement dream like you, but doing well. Trying to slow down a bit. Work less, play more, you know."

_Shut up, Eames. Loose lips sink ships._

Bobby swatted at a flying insect that buzzed around their ears. "That's good. And you're all, uh . . . healed?"

As it always did when she was reminded of that day over a year ago, a swell of nausea rose from her stomach and pressed threateningly against the back of her throat. "Yeah, yeah. Healed up good".

_Liar, liar, pants on fire. _

Bobby nodded and finally released his gaze from her face, returning it to the dark water. "Good, that's good."

With the edge of the dock now starting to slice uncomfortably into her legs, Alex shifted her weight from side-to-side to relieve some of the pressure. The movement sent the blanket cascading off her right shoulder and pooling behind her back. She went to pull it back up but Bobby beat her to it, quietly slipping the blanket over her shoulder again.

When their fingers brushed together, a warm tickle spread through her stomach, extinguishing the nausea. She allowed herself to revel in the pleasant buzz for only a moment before she snuffed it out.

_Are you really that desperate, Eames? _

Wrapping the blanket around her so tight that it nearly cut off her circulation, Alex took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I should get to bed. Big day tomorrow."

Bobby's eyes followed her as she slid back on the dock and hauled herself up to a standing position, brushing some debris off her legs.

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything."

"I will. Goodnight Bobby."

Alex was three quarters of the way off the dock when he called her name. Turning to face him, she saw that Bobby had pivoted on the dock, one leg bent and resting on the wood while the other still dangled in the water. She couldn't see his expression, shadowed as it was by the powerful moonlight, but his voice was low and serious when he spoke.

"You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. Just like we used to."

_Yeah, well that was back then. Things are different now. We're both different now. _

Sighing quietly, Alex looked up at the moon, globular and magnificent, and lied for the second time in as many minutes.

"I know, Bobby."

Turning quickly, she practically jogged the short distance back to the cabin.


	5. Chapter 5

_Huge thanks to WendyCR72, who was an invaluable sounding board for this chapter. It would not have come together nearly as well without her insight into the characters._

* * *

**Chapter 5 – Passion**

She ran, hard, for the first time in a long time.

The road that wound around the lake was often deserted, the vehicular traffic primarily limited to the residents of the shoreline properties. A person could walk for hours before encountering a car and Alex took full advantage of that, turning the weathered asphalt into her own personal racetrack. Errant pieces of gravel snapped, skittered and crunched beneath her feet as she pounded down the middle of the road, ponytail streaming behind her. The scenery on either side of her was a blur of motley green and blue, interrupted only occasionally by a mailbox or the narrow gap of a laneway. Birds darted across the road in front of her, alternating between banks of trees, disturbed by the clamor of her approach.

A few miles in, Alex wondered idly if lungs could actually explode.

She hadn't run much since the incident. Her injuries had taken some time to heal and she had hidden behind that excuse for as long as she could. Once she had received the green light to start exercising again, she had had the best intentions. She had brought her running gear out of the closet and placed it right by the front door, where it sat, collecting dust. What had once been her escape, her stress release, had become far too onerous a task. Running required energy and planning and ceased to appeal to her. At some point, unconsciously, she had given up on ever doing it again.

Until today.

Today, the fresh air, clear skies, and serene surroundings had re-ignited the itch. Her third day of teaching had gone well, and Alex was enjoying her role incrementally more each day. She was lecturing on a topic that she was more passionate about than she had ever realized, and that passion spread palpably to her students. With only a few exceptions, they appeared to soak up all her experience and knowledge like enthusiastic sponges. To offer value again, to be viewed as an expert and a resource, was intoxicating after so many months of feeling like dead weight. It energized her and the second she got back to the cabin, she had dug her running clothes out of the bottom of her suitcase and struck out.

She knew she was running far faster than was prudent given her lack of conditioning. She was hardly in the shape she used to be; too little structured exercise and too much time behind a desk, and it showed. Her lungs groped frantically for air and her shoulders burned as her arms pumped up and down beside her. If it hadn't been drowned out by the music blaring from her MP3 player, her breathing would have undoubtedly sounded heavy and ragged to her ears. Sweat stuck her clothing to her body like a second skin.

There were a few times that she was convinced she would have to stop, until an unexpected reserve of adrenaline was released into her veins. In those moments, her stride actually lengthened, and she covered more and more ground until she was flying. As her body neared exhaustion, her mind became blissfully blank and her soul felt light for the first time in ages. By the time she returned to her original departure point at the end of Bobby's laneway, her muscles were screaming, she thought she might vomit, and she felt better than she had in a very long time.

Finally acquiescing to the pleading cries of her physical body, Alex stopped for a moment to catch her breath before making the trek back up to the cabin at a walk, swatting at the mosquitoes that ravenously chased her damp skin. The late afternoon sun snuck through the branches above and a pair of frogs croaked at her from the safety of the sheltered forest floor.

When she reached the clearing, the sight of Faith's white Honda Civic parked between her rental car and Bobby's Jeep sucked some of the wind out of Alex's inflated sails.

_Great, company. All I want to do is take a shower, sit on the deck with a glass of wine and read._

That had been their routine the last few days. She would arrive back from work and greet Bobby in his study, where he was often found frowning at his laptop, absorbed in his writing. They would make dinner together and then retire to the back deck that looked out, through a shield of trees, at the water. Sipping a glass of wine or a tumbler of whiskey, they made small talk about the day and then sat quietly or read until the sun set. It was oddly domestic for them. Before, there had always been a purpose to their time together, even outside of work. They didn't spend time just sitting in each other's company, reading or enjoying the peace of nature. Meals together were more often than not of the take-out variety at the precinct. The past few days, their time together was aimless and unscheduled.

And she liked it. It was comfortable, enjoyable even. And there wasn't a lot in her life that she could describe as enjoyable anymore.

_Oh well. Not going to happen tonight I guess._

Acutely aware that she looked soggy and gross, Alex quickly calculated the likelihood of getting into the building without being noticed. The answer was slim to none – the front door and patio door both opened onto the great room. Short of climbing through her window, which would be ridiculous, she couldn't think of a single way to enter undetected.

Crouching down, Alex assessed her reflection in the side mirror of Bobby's Jeep. It wasn't pretty – her skin was blotchy, her neck was beet red and her hair was plastered to her forehead and neck. After wiping her face fruitlessly with her already saturated shirt, she managed to peel the soaked strands of hair off her skin and corral it back into a fresh ponytail. Straightening her attire as best she could, she stood and took a deep breath.

_It's not a fashion contest. You just came back from a run._

Slapping on a bravado that she did not feel in the least, Alex trotted up the front steps, muscles trembling from overuse. Biting the inside of her cheek to keep from grimacing, she pulled open the screen door and plastered a wide smile on her face.

There was no one there.

To her surprise and relief, the kitchen and great room were both empty, as was the back deck. Alex was about to head over to the patio doors to see if she could catch a glimpse of them down by the water when her eyes fell on the door to Bobby's room. It was closed, for the first time during the day since she had arrived.

And based on the sounds of pleasure coming from behind it, it was definitely occupied.

Even though there was no one there to see her, Alex's face flamed red with embarrassment. She felt like an intruder, a voyeur, a superfluous, insignificant third party who had absolutely no business being there in that moment. Slowly, careful to curtail the creaking of the screen door, Alex reversed out of the cabin, skipped down the steps and took off into the woods.

The heaviness that had lifted from her shoulders settled back like a bird on a perch.

* * *

Forty minutes later, the sound of voices floating on the breeze from the direction of the cabin signaled that it was safe to re-approach.

During her directionless stroll through the woods, Alex had rehearsed her plan. She would breeze into the cabin without an apparent care in the world, call a greeting to the couple, wherever they were, grab a bottle of water from the fridge and beeline directly for the shower. No passing "Go", no collecting two hundred dollars. Absolutely no indication she had crossed that threshold once already. No halting for a chat that would undoubtedly turn awkward, at least for her. She was already exceedingly embarrassed at her inability to manage the situation the first time. No need to compound that by letting something stupid slip over the course of a conversation.

It was a good plan, albeit completely predicated on the assumption that they would be somewhere inside the cabin.

Which of course they weren't.

Shoring up her fortitude, Alex emerged from the forest out of sight of the cabin, roughly halfway down the laneway, and broke into a jog. To maintain the charade, she had to be at least a little sweaty when she floated through the front door. Just as she rounded the last curve into the clearing, she was absurdly thankful she had, because Bobby and Faith weren't in the cabin at all. They were sitting outside on the front porch swing, side by side, swaying gently. Faith was nestled into Bobby's side, his arm running along the back of the swing behind her, his thumb stroking her arm. The unanticipated sight of them right there made Alex take a jagged stutter step and nearly stumble over her own feet. Fortunately they didn't seem to notice, engrossed as they were in looking at something in a book on Faith's lap. Her hearty, cheerful laughter echoed clear as a bell through the clearing.

_Of course, pretty much the only place in the entire cabin they could be where you won't be able to just slip past them without looking rude. Figures._

Faith was the first to greet her when she reached the bottom of the steps. "Hi Alex! How was your run?"

It was a slightly less enthusiastic greeting than their original introduction, but not by much.

Eager to look cool and collected, Alex bounded up the front steps two at a time. She nearly tripped over the top one and had to grab the railing to stop from falling.

_Stop overcompensating Eames. Just act normal, dammit._

Pretending to be far more out of breath than she was, she swallowed a few times and then nodded. "It was great, thanks. Beautiful day for it."

"You just getting back now?" Bobby asked, sitting up and sliding his arm off the back of the swing. She may have been imagining it, but she thought she could detect a slight anxiety in him over how she might answer that question.

_How the hell does he always know?_

"Yeah, yeah," Alex prattled, perching herself on the porch railing on the opposite side of the door from the couple. Her knuckles turned white as she placed the wood in a death grip. "Just now. It was such a nice day, I took my time. Plus I don't run as fast as I used to."

_No, this time you ran faster. Unfortunately. If you had gone a more normal pace, maybe this whole uncomfortable scenario could have been avoided. _

Faith frowned slightly, picking at a manicured nail. The motion made her elbow brush against Bobby's abdomen. "I'm envious you can still run at all. I used to be a runner too. Had to give it up a few years ago, too hard on the joints. It's yoga and Pilates for me from now on."

A second later, that slight frown melted away, replaced by a broad smile. "Hey, you should come to one of my classes while you're here. That would be fun! As my guest of course. Maybe you could even convince Bobby to join." She tossed a mock glare at her boyfriend, who merely raised his eyebrows and grinned in response. "I've never had any luck."

The mental image of Bobby doing yoga was so amusing that Alex smiled and agreed despite herself. "Sure, that would be great."

With a sigh, Faith pushed herself off the swing, using Bobby's leg for leverage. She looked effortlessly beautiful, clad in a flowing summer dress that accentuated her small waist and long legs. Her makeup was minimal, understated, the mark of a natural beauty. Feeling hideous in comparison, coated as she was in a crust of dried sweat, Alex subconsciously sucked in her stomach and sat up a little straighter.

"I should get going." Bending down, Faith reached under the swing to grab her purse and shove the book inside. "I'm already going to be late."

Alex tried to ignore the frisson of relief that tickled her. "Oh, you aren't staying for dinner?"

_Maybe a drink and the deck are in my future after all. _

"No, I wish." Faith slung her purse over her shoulder, lightly curled hair bouncing against her back. "I've got a work event tonight. Completely last minute."

Bobby rose, the chains of the swing groaning as they were freed from his weight. Faith leaned into him for a kiss and Alex averted her gaze, suddenly completely fascinated with the yellow caterpillar that was inching its way up the pillar beside her.

When they drew apart, Faith looked up at Bobby and cupped his face with her hand. The tender gesture made Alex's gut constrict as painfully as if she had been sucker punched.

"I'm so sorry I can't be there with you tonight, sweetie."

Bobby took her hand from his cheek and kissed her palm gently. "That's, uh, okay. I understand."

"What's tonight?" Alex blurted out, feeling the desperate need to remind them she was there.

Releasing Faith's hand, Bobby shrugged. "It's . . . uh, nothing important. It's just my editor is in town. She's got a boat docked at Portland Harbor. She's taking some friends out on the, uh, water and invited me to join. Thought maybe I could give her an update on how the book is coming along."

"I was just going for moral support." Faith nudged him with her elbow gently. "You know, Bobby. Not the biggest fan of social events." Leaning forward, Faith winked conspiratorially at Alex and mock whispered, "I've made it up to him, but I still feel bad."

Alex forced the bile back down her throat with a long gulp, gripping the railing so hard she was surprised it didn't splinter in her hand. Until then she had been quite successful at blocking any intimate images of Bobby and Faith from her conscious mind, but with that comment some broke through unbidden and made her feel nauseous and vaguely despairing. At least Bobby also had the good grace to blush and look uncomfortable.

A realization seemed to dawn on Faith suddenly. "Hon, why don't you take Alex instead?"

Bobby appeared as startled as Alex felt at the suggestion. Furrowing his brow, he glanced only quickly at Alex before returning his eyes to Faith.

"No, no. That's, uh, okay. I'm fine, you know. I'm sure that's the last thing Alex would want to do tonight. She worked all day."

_What am I, eighty? I can't work all day, and then go out at night?_

Bristling slightly at the weak excuse on her behalf, Alex folded her arms across her chest. "I'll go. Sounds like fun."

It didn't particularly, as the back deck and a glass of whiskey were still calling to her, but she wasn't about to admit that.

Bobby cleared his throat and seemed about to protest when Faith shot him a hard look. It was a look that Alex herself had directed at him a million times before. He had known that look well, and the majority of the time he had trusted her enough to back down when he caught it. She couldn't confidently say she had that power anymore, but Faith certainly did. Dropping his eyes, Bobby pressed his lips into a thin line and said nothing.

"Great! It's settled!" Faith stepped forward and wrapped her in a tight hug. Alex was proud of herself for not stiffening perceptibly, as the knowledge of what had transpired between her former partner and Faith not long before made that close contact highly uncomfortable. "I feel so much better, knowing he will have some company. Thank you."

When Faith disengaged, Alex pushed the icky feeling that had raced up her spine back down to her tailbone. "No problem. I've been wanting to get out on the harbor anyway, see Portland from a different angle. Everyone at work tells me that's a must-see before I leave."

That much was true at least.

"You'll love it!" Reaching up, Faith gave Bobby a final kiss before stepping back and drawing her keys out of her purse. "I'd better dash. Have a great time, both of you."

As she passed on her way down the stairs, Faith gave Alex's shoulder a warm squeeze. "Take care of him for me. And don't keep my man out too late."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Friend**

The sleek silver and white behemoth holding court at Slip 52 was not at all what she expected.

As Alex and Bobby ambled down the bustling piers of the central waterfront, they fought for space with an eclectic blend of meandering tourists, weary fishermen lugging bedraggled nets and smartly dressed professionals recently disgorged from the local ferry. As day transitioned to evening, business was rapidly giving way to pleasure around the harbor, the commercial vessels retiring to their slips while the smaller, sportier recreational crafts set out on the water. Overhead, gulls screamed as they circled the boats, seeking a snack.

_The Bookworm_ was moored along one of the private piers. The glitter of the setting sun off the water made her shimmer like a mirage. At almost twenty feet tall, she towered over the wharf and dwarfed the boats on either side. Beneath the dock, the water of the bay lapped impotently against her massive fiberglass hull, sloshing and slurping among the pilings and buoys.

"Holy cow." Eyes wide, Alex pushed her gold-rimmed aviator sunglasses up on top of her head. "I thought you said it was a boat. This is no boat. This is a yacht."

Beside her, Bobby had shoved his hands into the pockets of his khakis and was gaping up at the beast before them, neck craned to take it all in. "Eunice just said it was a boat. I had no clue that it was, uh . . . this."

"Well I'm officially under dressed." She glanced down at her denim skirt and halter top with dismay. "And clearly in the wrong line of work. How in the world does she afford this on an editor's salary?"

Bobby shook his head, dragging a hand absently through his wavy hair. "I remember her mentioning that her husband was in the crude oil business. Obviously, they are doing all right for themselves."

"Obviously," Alex muttered. She nudged the massive metal cleat that secured _The Bookworm_'s lines with the toe of her sandal. "I'm pretty sure that the bathroom in this thing is going to be larger than my entire apartment."

"Yoohoo, Robert!"

A shrill voice from above startled them both. They looked straight up to see a plump woman with steel grey pin-straight hair leaning over the side of the boat, waggling her fingers at them in a wave. The sleeves of her brightly patterned caftan looked like pooling paint against the bright white of the hull.

"Come aboard, come aboard!"

Bobby led the way to the back of the boat where a steel mesh gangplank awaited. Walking carefully up the short bridge, he gripped the railing and hopped down onto the rear deck, Alex trailing behind him. When she went to hop down, a more challenging mission given her short stature, he seemed to debate offering her a hand. He started to extend one and then, with an awkward twisting motion, brought it back to his side.

Their host greeted them as soon as they stepped foot on the boat. Clad in a floppy sunhat and a pair of dark sunglasses and with her legs hidden away under the caftan, she appeared to almost float toward them, a martini glass full of flamingo pink liquid clutched in one hand, a fragrant cloud of perfume not far behind.

"You're the first to arrive!" Eunice gave Bobby a quick hug then kissed the air on either side of his cheeks. "I'm so glad you were able to join us."

"Thank you for the invitation." Stepping aside to give his editor a better view, Bobby gestured to Alex. "This is Alexandra Eames, my partner. Alex, this is Eunice, editor extraordinaire."

Alex held out her hand for a handshake, but Eunice only grabbed it to pull her closer and repeat the air kiss exercise cheerfully. "Well, aren't you simply gorgeous? You are a lucky man, Robert. I didn't realize you were seeing someone. How long have you been together?"

"Oh n-no," Alex stammered, shaking her head fervently. "It's not that kind of partner."

Bobby made a guttural noise that could have been either a suppressed laugh or a strangled cough and Alex glared at him before continuing.

"Bobby and I worked together on the Major Case Squad."

"Oh!" Clapping her hands together, Eunice emitted a delighted squeal. The movement sent her caftan fluttering around her arms like oversized wings. "Isn't that just perfect! I've been dying to get the inside scoop on my newest author!"

Motioning for them to follow, she spun on her heel gracefully and headed for a set of open glass doors.

"Come in, come in. We need to get you both a drink."

* * *

The washroom of _The Bookworm _may not have been larger than her apartment, but the main deck certainly was.

The main level of the yacht consisted of a kitchenette, a modern dining area, and a lounge, all floored in glossy teak and painted a fashionable grey. The rectangular dining table, with its purple-veined marble top, was bolted to the floor but the chairs surrounding it slid around freely. There was little need for any sort of restriction really; the sheer size of the yacht buffered them from experiencing the rise and fall of the water. Not even the beer bottles, stationed on the slick surface of the table, shifted with the tide. Below deck, there were four small cabins and a simple washroom for more lengthy travels. As the trio sat relaxing in the wicker chairs on the main level, they could hear the footfalls of the crew on the upper level, preparing the vessel for departure.

Eunice's high-pitched laughter echoed in the enclosed space. "He didn't!"

"He totally did." Alex grinned, mindlessly watching condensation slide down the side of her beer bottle and pool around the base. "Stood there in the middle of the road, dressed like a mailman, dancing to music only he could hear. If you can call what he did dancing. And it was all just to suss out if there was anyone home at the suspect's house."

Eunice's eyes sparkled with newfound appreciation as she looked over the rim of her glass at Bobby, who sat slouched in his chair, fidgeting. "I just can't imagine that."

"I couldn't either. And then I saw it." Crossing her legs, Alex chuckled and took a swig of beer. "Bobby always had this uncanny ability to effortlessly slip into a character when needed. He plays a part very well. He could always be whatever a suspect or witness needed him to be – a bumbling detective, an empathetic friend, an Armani employee, a charming date, you name it.

"Now that I CAN imagine." Eunice patted Bobby's hand, the bangles on her wrist chiming together. "I've always found him quite charming. Right from our very first meeting at the publisher. My boss told me that he had some fascinating stories to tell. From what I've read so far of his book, she was absolutely right. Has he let you read any of it yet, Alex?"

It was Bobby who stepped in quickly to field that question. "Alex doesn't need to read it. She lived it."

A swell of pride erupted in Alex's gut in response to that statement, that remarkable feeling of being part of something important. Subconsciously she clawed desperately at it, trying to capture and bottle it. The invisible steel rod that had been erected between her shoulder blades loosened a little and she found she could sit up a bit straighter.

"Well, I am looking forward to reading it someday. When he's ready to share."

Eunice reached across the table to grab a handful of cashews from a black and white striped bowl. "Let's give Alex at least a little bit of a preview. What are you writing about right now Robert?"

"The, uh, Miles Stone case."

Eunice leaned forward excitedly. "The magician, right? Wasn't he killed by the other magician? I remember reading about that case in the paper."

Alex remembered it too, but she was surprised to discover that the details of the case were not what was most vivid in her recollection. The visual that came to mind readily was actually a snippet from a quiet moment, when she and Bobby were in the suspect's dressing room, waiting for him to finish his show. Bobby had shown her a card handling trick where he spread a deck of cards down his arm and then smoothly flipped them over. When he had looked up at her after successfully pulling off the trick, the smile on his face had been broader and more genuine than she had ever seen it in all the years of their partnership. It had highlighted how incredibly handsome he was. Just the memory of it made butterflies dance in her stomach.

Promptly pushing away that vision, Alex tilted her beer bottle to point in Bobby's direction. "You should have seen Bobby on THAT case, Eunice. He was a kid in a candy store, playing with all the magician's props. I was convinced that after we solved the case he was going to quit and start up his own magic shop."

Eunice eyed Bobby thoughtfully and he ducked his head shyly. "You are certainly an enigma, Robert. I'm so glad that you brought Alexandra today. I'm learning so much about you. You must have been great fun to work with!"

It was Bobby's turn to laugh but it lacked any mirth.

"No, that's definitely not true. Alex put up with a lot of crap for uh, a long time." His face was somber as he stared intently at his beer bottle as though he could see through it. "Her career was hindered by me. She probably would have been Chief of D's right now, if it weren't for the fact that she was my partner."

_Chief of D's? Ha! I can barely get myself out of bed in the morning. _

"That's not true," Alex argued, eyes drifting out one of the tinted port windows to watch a sailboat breeze by. "I made my own choices, Bobby."

"Yeah. Choices you might not have had to make if it weren't for me." Bobby scrubbed roughly at the ring of condensation staining his ceramic coaster with a thumb.

She shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I can definitely say it was never dull, that's for sure. There were good times . . . and there were bad. Some very bad." Unbidden, a new, less pleasant memory floated to the surface, this one of the time he had gone undercover and shut her out of his life. Years later, that still stung.

Swallowing hard to ground herself again, Alex turned her gaze to Eunice. "Bobby was both a lot of fun and . . . at times . . . unpredictable, tempestuous. He had some horrible things happen in his life during his time at Major Case, so it was understandable but hard to watch. That said, he is the most brilliant profiler and gifted detective that I have ever met. Despite the ups and downs, I wouldn't change a thing."

A muscle in Bobby's jaw worked, jumping and twitching beneath the skin. Alex had never seen him cry before, even at his own mother's funeral, but she could have sworn that his eyes were glistening with tears now. He held her gaze for only a moment before clearing his throat, pushing back his chair and standing up.

"I'm going to use the restroom and get another drink. Would either of you like anything?"

The women declined and Bobby retreated to the back of the cabin, where a set of stairs led below deck. As soon as he was out of earshot, Eunice leaned closer to Alex, a mischievous smirk on her lined face.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I want all the juicy details. How long had you guys been partners the first time you slept together?"

Mid-sip, Alex nearly choked. "Bobby and I? No! Hell no! Never."

The older woman leaned back and wagged a playful finger at her. "Now don't you lie to me young lady. I've read chapters of Bobby's book, remember. I've heard all about the criminals you put behind bars. I know how much time you spent together on cases, the long hours that you both put in, the terrible things that you witnessed. You held each other's lives in your hands. That has to bring you close, very close. And when a man and a woman get that close, well, things happen."

"Sure, sometimes they do," Alex agreed carefully, drumming her fingers on the arm of her chair. "And when there is a professional partnership involved, it almost always messes things up. People lose their positions, their marriages, their families. The work has always been very important to me, and to Bobby. And, in time, so was our partnership. We wouldn't have done anything to jeopardize that."

"Surely you thought about it," Eunice insisted, resting her elbows on the tables and tenting her fingers. "You must have been tempted, even if it was just in a moment of weakness."

Her reply breezed out easily as if rehearsed. Perhaps it had been.

"Never. I care about Bobby deeply, yes. But he's like a brother to me. I don't have romantic feelings for him. At all. And I'm sure he would say the same about me."

Eunice shook her head slowly, lips curving into a smug smile. "I'm not so sure about that. I may be old, but I'm not blind. I've seen the way he looks at you."

Outside, a called greeting and the clatter of feet on the gangplank jerked their attention from the conversation.

"Ah! More guests have arrived. Come, and I'll introduce you." Wrapping her caftan around herself artfully, Eunice stood and floated off in the direction of the back deck, leaving Alex sitting alone at the table, beer gripped tightly in her right hand, too dumbfounded to move.

* * *

The Portland skyline was impressive at night.

Two miles out from shore, the night lights of the high rises blurred together to create pillars of illumination in the bay. Neon signs blinked and flickered and added splashes of color to the architectural display. From out on the water, the city had all the visual charm of a glittering carnival. Standing separate and at a distance from the urban center were twin lighthouses, one on the point and one on an island in the bay, flashing a simple white beacon every six seconds.

The wind had picked up and as _The Bookworm_ turned back toward the harbor after a leisurely cruise around the bay, it collected spray from the bow and distributed it as a fine mist. The other guests had disappeared inside, complaining of a chill, but Alex and Bobby had elected to remain sitting on the padded bench in the bow, watching the city grow as they approached land. Patio lanterns dangled over their heads and Alex turned her face up to embrace the tiny droplets that speckled her skin.

Bobby wiped his palms along the seams of his khakis. "Thanks, uh, for coming with me tonight."

Alex waved that away dismissively. "No problem. You didn't need me though. You did just fine with everyone."

It was true; she had watched the new Bobby charm all of the guests with ease over the course of the evening, regaling them with stories and demonstrations of his impressive breadth of knowledge.

Bobby shrugged, stretching his long legs out in front of him and crossing them at the ankles. "Yeah, it was okay. Still not really, my . . . uh, thing. Everyone was nice though."

Alex nodded, scratching lightly behind her ear. "People seem so much nicer here than back home."

He considered that for a moment, interlacing his fingers behind his head. "I thought that when I first got here too. Not sure it's true though. I think people here are just more open and approachable, whereas New Yorkers are more closed, guarded. It's a necessary survival mechanism in a busy and crowded city. Underneath it all, New Yorkers are every bit as nice as these people. You just have to dig a bit to find it."

"Thank you, Dr. Goren." Alex rolled her eyes. "Well isn't that an ironic bit of insight."

"What do you mean?"

She chortled lightly. "Spoken by someone who for the longest time was the king of closed and guarded."

Bobby acknowledged that with a nod of his head but seemed distracted and the conversation died for a few moments. When he spoke next, his tone seemed tentative.

"Hey, what you said earlier? About, uh, . . . not wanting to change anything? Did you mean that?"

"Of course," Alex snapped, suddenly inexplicably annoyed at having to reiterate that yet again.

_How can you not know how much I liked working with you? I basically announced it in front of a courtroom full of people at one point. If I hadn't, I would have bolted years ago, like everyone told me to. _

"Well it was really nice of you to say, in front of Eunice. I know it wasn't, uh, easy. You had to work really hard sometimes . . . to save me from myself."

"You're welcome." Feeling discomfited by Bobby's sudden burst of gratitude, waiting for the other shoe to drop, Alex shifted her weight on the bench and tried to change the subject. "You know what I find funny?"

"What's that?" Leaning back, Bobby stretched his arm along the top of the padded bench. Although that put his hand near her shoulder, she noticed he was careful to avoid contact. It was a sharp contrast to how he had sat with Faith earlier that afternoon. After . . .

With that thought, her defenses immediately shored up and she stiffened, pressing back into the bench to ensure no part of her arm brushed his fingers. "The number of people who actually think we are stupid enough to have slept together."

Surprised at this rapid about-face in the conversation, Bobby let out a snort of laughter. The mist had dampened his hair and he slicked it back with his hand. "I know. It's pretty ridiculous. Let me guess - it was, uh . . . Eunice who asked."

Alex nodded. "Didn't help that you introduced me as your partner."

Bobby grinned. "Sorry about that. Old, uh, habits die hard. You know, I had a very similar "it's not that kind of partner" conversation with Frank many years back."

"You did?"

"Yeah. That first day you saw him, at the soup kitchen. He asked me if you were my, uh . . . wife."

Alex barked out a laugh to cover an unwelcome frisson of . . . what? Excitement?

"You never told me that before."

"Yeah." Bobby's face darkened suddenly, as if he were remembering something unpleasant. "Frank was definitely one of the people who was convinced there was something going on between us."

Watching the mysterious thunderclouds amass above his head, Alex quickly pushed on. "Well, he's not alone. I don't get it. Why do people think it's impossible for a man and a woman to just be friends?"

Bobby grunted in agreement, his features relaxing slightly. "Pretty sure I've said something similar a time or two in the past."

Filled with an irrational urge to test Eunice's theory from earlier, Alex said nonchalantly "As if you would have ever thought of me in that way. Let's be real - I'm not at all your type."

He took the bait, turning to look at her with a laugh.

"Are you kidding me? I had such a huge crush on you when we worked together."

If she had been dumbfounded by Eunice's comment earlier, she was completely shocked now, having received an answer she honestly hadn't expected. "What?"

Bobby smiled sheepishly. "I know, it's stupid and it was wrong. I would never have admitted it. Not to you, not even to myself. But I can see it now. Thanks in large part to my work with Dr. Gyson, who helped me unravel that particular snarl of, uh, yarn."

Alex's heart had started to pound so loudly she was convinced they could hear it back on the mainland. Despite the cool mist rising off the bay, she felt almost feverish.

"Yeah, right. You're yanking my chain."

"No, I'm serious." Bobby chuckled. "I had a silly schoolboy crush. I would never have acted on it though, even if I had been able to admit it to myself. I was hardly a desirable romantic partner, I knew that. And the thought of, uh, possibly ruining our work relationship terrified me. I was just so desperate for acceptance and you were the only person back then who accepted me. It made me fall for you . . . hard."

Speechless, Alex sat motionless on the bench, staring at him, desperately trying to find an appropriate response. Sensing her discomfort, Bobby removed his arm from the back of the bench and nudged her playfully with his elbow.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out. I'm over it, I swear. I've, uh, moved on. I'm not about to start hitting on you. Don't worry. You are more like a sister to me now."

_Well, you got that one wrong, Eunice._

Feeling inappropriately disappointed, Alex pasted a wide grin on her face. "I'm not worried. We both know that if you ever tried anything, I could kick your ass."

Bobby laughed. "I may not be the most socially adept person ever, but . . . uh, I knew you were out of my league, even back then. I wasn't deluded enough to think that I would ever have had a chance, even if the circumstances were different. You are smart, kind, compassionate, funny, and, uh, beautiful. If anything, it's ME that's not YOUR type. You never would have gone for a messed-up loner like me. I feel lucky just to have you as a friend."

With Portland's shore looming imminently ahead, _The Bookworm_'s captain eased up on the throttle and the yacht shuddered as she slowed, her bow still cutting effortlessly through the waves. Carefully, they maneuvered among the rest of the traffic in the harbor.

Bobby stood and straightened the collar of his shirt. "I'm going to head in, thank Eunice for the tour."

"Sure, sure. I'll be right behind you," Alex mumbled as Bobby slipped past her and vanished without another word.

Alone now, she sat out on the bow until _The Bookworm_ coasted expertly back into its slip, bumping gently against the protective buoys that lined the wood.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7 – Strong**

The week did not end on a positive note.

A nightmare had ripped her out of a deep slumber at 2:30 am. Hardly a rare occurrence, but it was actually the first since her arrival in Maine. As if making up for lost time, the images had been sharper and more vivid than usual; when the bomb detonated, the virtual impact sent her shooting straight up in bed, heart crammed up in her throat. Disoriented, she had panicked when the room that came into focus was not hers and she had scrambled out of bed, banging her leg hard on the corner of the bedside table and knocking over a lamp. It was several long seconds before her rational mind seized control of her reptilian brain and reminded her that she was at Bobby's cabin. She had crawled back into bed right away but further sleep had eluded her. She had spent the rest of the night staring out the window as the sky lightened and birds began their morning melody.

Her poor night's sleep dogged her all day. Despite downing multiple cups of strong black coffee, Alex felt foggy and sluggish. She was completely off her game at work – losing her train of thought, stumbling through answers to basic questions, fumbling with papers and markers. The sidelong glances and confused frowns of her audience made it clear that her struggle was noticeable. Embarrassed, she had rushed through the material for the day as quickly as possible and adjourned the group early, slinking back to her designated desk in a corner of the precinct to plan her lessons for the following week. The stink of failure crept back in, followed closely by hopelessness.

Over breakfast, Bobby had told her he had a date with Faith that evening and would be out for most of the night. She had tried to keep the disappointment that had flared in her stomach off her face. The prospect of being alone in that cabin, with nothing to distract from her thoughts, was anxiety-inducing and had gotten more and more disagreeable as the day went on. When she left the precinct late in the afternoon, Alex had turned in the opposite direction of the parking lot and wandered the streets aimlessly for an hour before she crossed the threshold of the Stampede Tavern.

The Stampede was a trendy hole-in-the-wall situated two blocks over from Portland's main drag. A small standalone red brick building, its facade was fronted by a black wrought iron fence that surrounded twin flower beds in full summer bloom. A ring of rusty horseshoes framed the door. Inside, the space was crammed to the hilt with a mahogany bar and a series of square tables, straight-backed chairs, and vinyl covered booths. The decor was pure, unadulterated western. Speakers pumped the same Top 40 country music that filled the bar out onto the sidewalk.

The pub was busy with Friday night revelers but fate had been on her side and she was able to secure a small, two-seater table that was tucked into a corner, parallel to the bar. Alex sat on the far side of the table on a booth seat that stretched all the way across the one wall. It gave her a fantastic view of the entire pub and she used the human spectacle before her to distract herself from the circus in her mind. A group of fishermen were playing darts off to the left, a retirement party was picking up steam near the back, and a crowd of male college students downed synchronized shots to her right. Waitresses squeezed through the throng, platters of drinks in hand.

She was on her fourth bourbon when her cell phone vibrated, jigging around on the table, display alight. She had been staring into her glass, lost in the ghosts of the past, and it took great effort to pull her eyes away and blearily check the number.

_Bobby._

With reluctance, she picked up a second before her voicemail kicked in.

"What's up?"

"Nothing." Bobby's voice held just a tinge of faux cheerfulness. "Just wanted to check-in . . . see how your day was. Thought you might have been home by, uh, now."

_It's not my home, Bobby. It's you that's living the charmed life._

"It was good," Alex lied, her tone flat. "How was yours?"

"Fine, fine." There was a pause on the line as Bobby seemed to be weighing his words carefully. "Are you okay? When you didn't come home, I got a bit . . . worried, you know."

_Oh Bobby. Don't waste your time worrying about me. I'm already lost._

"I'm completely fine, I promise." Alex forced lightness into her tone. "Hey look, I've got to go. Have a good night."

She hung up and sank back into her solitary misery.

* * *

One hour and another full drink later, she was undeniably intoxicated.

The pub had emptied out some, hovering in the trough between the after-work crowd and the party crowd. The college boys were the lone holdouts from when she first arrived. The alcohol had fueled their rowdiness while it drained her spirit. Her throat was raw from the bourbon but the sharp edges of the flashbacks had softened so it was worth it. The room was starting to blur at the peripheries and her fingers felt thick and clumsy as they wrapped around her glass.

"What're you up to tonight?"

Hazily, Alex glanced up from the amber liquid in her glass and saw one of the college boys, a rail-thin young man with a buzz cut, hovering around the vacant chair on the other side of her table.

_Wonderful._

"I'm waitin' for someone," Alex lied, speaking slowly and carefully to try and control the slur that marred her words. She turned her head cautiously, aware that any movement made the room spin, to see the rest of the college crowd staring over at them, grinning and elbowing each other.

Buzz Cut seemed pleased with that answer. His smile broadened, highlighting a slight gap between his front teeth, as he placed his beer glass presumptuously on her table. "Can I wait with you?"

"No, you can't."

A deep voice to her left responded before she could. Bobby appeared suddenly as if emerging from a fog. He had gathered himself up to his full height, shoulders square, mouth set in a thin line. His eyes were locked on the would-be suitor as he approached the table, gaze hard as steel. The younger man held his ground for only a moment before his bravado wavered and he removed his glass from the table and retreated back to his crew.

"Christ, Bobby," Alex groaned, folding her arms on the table and dropping her forehead onto them. She knocked her glass in the process and Bobby deftly grabbed it before the bourbon sloshed over the rim. "What are you doing here?"

The wooden legs of the chair scraped across the tile as he pulled it back and sat down across from her.

"Saving you from drunken frat boys, apparently."

Sighing, Alex straightened back up resignedly and rested her chin on her hands. "How did you know I was here?"

Bobby gestured toward the speakers on the wall behind her that were presently blaring Garth Brooks.

"The, uh, music in the background. When we were on the phone. The Stampede is the only pub in Portland that plays country music twenty-four seven."

Alex laughed despite herself. "Of course."

_Only Bobby. Always the detective._

Uncharacteristically, Bobby didn't join in the laughter. His face was serious as he laced his fingers together and placed his hands on the table. "What's going on with you?"

Alex frowned, her finger tracing a gouge in the wooden tabletop. "Nothing. What's going on with you? I thought you had a date with Faith."

"I did. I, uh, cancelled."

Alex groaned again, pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. "I really wish you hadn't done that. Faith is going to hate me."

A family of four slipped behind Bobby's chair. He watched them over his shoulder weave through stools and chairs to an empty table before turning back to look at her, voice low. "I was . . . concerned. You seemed, uh, off this morning."

Sighing, Alex closed her eyes. She could feel the fabric of the curtain she had drawn between herself and the world start to fray and split. The alcohol inhibited her ability to return her shields to their normal state and she felt vulnerable in a way that she hadn't allowed in a long time. For once it took more effort to lie than it would have to tell the truth. Yet old habits died hard.

"I'm fine. It was just a long day."

"You're not fine, Alex," Bobby said quietly, his dark eyes steady and unflinching. "Please don't, uh . . . keep pretending you are."

Her shoulders slumped as the last of her energy evaporated and her entire body sagged.

_I can't do this anymore. I'm done with fighting. I'm tired, so very tired._

Too exhausted to argue the point any further, Alex shook her head and tried a different tact.

"It doesn't matter, Bobby."

"It matters to me."

Bobby's voice was firm, a contrast to the soft tone that he typically used with her. She was surprised when he grabbed her glass and, in one gulp, downed the rest of the bourbon.

"Come on. Let's get out of here."

* * *

They didn't speak a word the entire drive home.

Alex had sat in the passenger seat, staring out into the night while Bobby drove. Talk radio droned on in the background but at a volume so low that the words were virtually indistinguishable. She had rolled her window down a crack, hoping the cool evening air would help her sober up. Her mind did end up feeling clearer but she was still unsteady on her feet when she got out of the car. Even holding on to the railing, she had stumbled going up the front steps. If Bobby hadn't grabbed her arm, she would have done a face plant. He had kept a firm grip on her elbow while unlocking the door and letting them inside, only releasing it after she was safely seated on the couch.

The cabin was damp, the woodfire that had burned earlier that day to combat the morning chill now reduced to nothing but embers, and Alex pulled the wool afghan that was draped over the back of the couch around her shoulders. She recognized it from his apartment in New York – it had originally belonged to his mother – and she found that small reminder of the past a nostalgic comfort. Bobby vanished into the kitchen, reappearing with a huge bottle of water and a plate of crackers that he placed in front of her on the coffee table before lowering himself onto the adjacent loveseat. Crossing one leg on top of the other at the ankle, he folded his hands in his lap and sat, watching.

Waiting patiently for her to find a place to start.

_When all else fails, focus on the facts_.

"I have nightmares. Bad ones," Alex said slowly, cracking her knuckles in an effort to release pent-up tension. "Every night I pretty much relive the moments leading up to the explosion."

Bobby blinked but said nothing. He was careful to keep his face neutral, expressionless, but she strongly suspected that this admission wasn't news to him.

_Of course it isn't. He probably heard you crash around like a bull in a china shop this morning._

"It's been hard to . . . function . . . since that day. I have trouble concentrating, focusing. Sudden noises make me jump. I get anxious in confined areas. I have flashbacks, I feel . . . on edge, constantly."

Bobby nodded and remained silent, as if afraid that any comment would bring an abrupt halt to her narrative. He needn't have worried; now that the dam had sprung a leak, the story could not be held back.

Alex yanked at a piece of yarn that had wormed loose from the weave of the afghan. "We missed the mark so badly, Bobby. I don't know how. But innocent people paid the price."

"You can't own that," Bobby said quietly. "You did the best you could. You didn't make the bomb or put that detonator in his hand."

She chuckled bitterly. "I bet that's a real comfort for the families. We were clueless, Bobby. We bungled the investigation. Three months in and we still had no clue that Franklin was the trafficker. If we had figured it out sooner, we could have handled the whole situation so much differently. We would have been far more careful. You would have known. You would have figured it out long before then."

"You don't know that."

"You would have, Bobby," Alex insisted, wrapping the afghan more tightly around her, a protective cocoon. "I realize now that you really were the genius, and I really did just carry your water. I said that all those years ago out of anger, but it's true. I can recognize that now."

"Alex . . ."

"No." She held up a hand to silence him. "We messed up, and innocent people died. Period. I should have died too, but I was spared, for God knows what reason. I should be out, leading a better life, making a bigger difference in the world, to somehow justify my ongoing existence. To make up for the fact that those people aren't here to do it."

Her voice broke as a huge lump formed in her esophagus and it took several deep breaths to smooth it out again. "I have had the best medical care, the best mental health care, and yet still, here I am, unable to get it together, miserable, squandering this second chance at life."

Tilting her head forward, Alex purposely allowed a curtain of hair to cascade down around her face to hide the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm her features. A muscle in her cheek twitched and she frantically blinked back the water that was gathering along her eyelids, in danger of spilling over.

_Do not cry, do NOT cry. You have NO right. You are still alive. _

She heard the creak of the loveseat as Bobby stood. With her head still tilted down, face shrouded behind the veil of hair, the first thing she saw was his socks, followed by a swath of leg as he gingerly lowered himself down on the coffee table in front of her. He didn't speak, just rested a hand on her knee.

When she was confident she had herself somewhat together, Alex squared her shoulders, lifted her chin defiantly and met his gaze, waiting for him to feed her the empty platitudes that she had heard so often over the last year.

It's not your fault.

Everything will be okay.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

It's the PTSD and survivor's guilt talking.

_Blah, blah, blah._

But as usual, Bobby offered that which she was not expecting.

"I'm so sorry that you're going through this."

His eyes were soft and deep, his voice gentle and her heart leapt at just that simple acknowledgement. It promised no false hope for the future, offered no solution, made no futile attempt to explain that which she already knew and from which derived no comfort. It was a simple validation that communicated he was there, in the moment, with her. Something no one else had ever done.

To her horror, Alex felt one fat, traitorous tear escape and slide down her cheek.

Reaching out, Bobby gently brushed that lone tear away with his thumb.

Surprised, Alex cleared her throat and leaned back, scrubbing at the remaining tear trail with the coarse corner of the afghan. "Thank you. It's been . . . a struggle. Still is."

"Why didn't you, uh . . . tell me sooner?" Bobby's voice was kind and devoid of judgment as he returned his hands to his lap. "You've had to deal with this . . . all on your own. I would have, uh, liked to help."

"I know, I'm sorry." Feeling a bit lighter, Alex tucked her hair back behind her ears. "I just didn't want you to think of me any differently. As soon as people hear the story, find out that I've got PTSD, they get all weird. As if I'm some sort of china doll that they're afraid they'll break. I couldn't have handled it if you had started treating me differently too, because of what happened. I didn't want you to think that I was weak, damaged somehow."

"Weak?" Bobby sat back in apparent surprise. "Alex, weak is never, uh, EVER a word I would use to describe you. I just hope that you know you don't always have to be so . . . . so strong."

Before she realized what she was doing, Alex had wrapped her arms around Bobby's neck in a hug. He stiffened at first, as if unsure how to respond, but that faded quickly and he hugged her back. It was the lengthiest physical contact of their relationship and she held onto it until it was bordering on awkward.

As she released him and sat back, a tendril of hair escaped from behind her right ear and brushed against her face. Gently, Bobby swept it back. His fingertips lingered on her face for a moment, lightly tracing the small scar on her cheek - the scar that no one else seemed to notice but that he, naturally, had.

For one intense moment, Alex was sure that he was going to kiss her.

And, for the first time, ever, in the history of their relationship, Alex allowed herself to acknowledge that she actually wanted him to.

A sudden commotion on the front porch startled them both. The two metal garbage pails that had been sitting by the door, waiting to be returned to the shed, had overturned, their metal lids raising a riotous clatter. Trance broken, Bobby dropped his hand, jumped to his feet and strode to the front door, flicking on the porch light. As he peered through the screen, Alex sat motionless, head cocked to one side, listening.

There was only silence.

After a minute, Bobby turned and shrugged. "I don't see anything, but if it ran off the porch, I wouldn't. It's, uh, pitch black out there. Probably just a raccoon.

Feeling unsteady for a reason that she wanted desperately to attribute to the cacophony but knew was actually a product of the moment before, Alex agreed. "Probably."

That moment now passed, they were careful to keep a safe distance for the rest of the night.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 – Intentions**

It wasn't nightmares that stole her sleep that night; it was exhilaration.

She had lain awake for hours, replaying the conversation over and over in her mind like a beloved record. It had been a precious antidote, a balm for her soul. She had talked; he had listened without agenda, without judgment. As she poured out the poison that had been polluting her body and mind for the past year, she could feel the toxins transform into harmless vapor and dissipate, as if Bobby were a filter through which all malevolence was neutralized. She confided everything in him, short of her humiliating demotion at work, until her throat was sore and the shell she had so meticulously crafted developed fissures. While Alex was hardly fool enough to believe that she was cured, some of the tension in her body had undeniably evaporated, leaving in its wake a pleasant buzz that emanated from her core and extended to her extremities.

The memory of his fingers on her face elicited a completely different sensation, one that originated in more primitive parts of her body. It was this sensation more than any that kept her awake, tossing and turning. Although they had been sleeping under the same roof for nearly a week now, Alex had never been more aware of his proximity and how very little effort it would have taken to slip into his room, into his bed . . .

When she finally did drift off, her dreams were much more pleasant than normal.

"Thank you so much again for volunteering to help out today."

The sound of Faith's voice jolted Alex from her mental recap of the night before and she turned around to find Bobby and Faith standing just past the counter of the covered carnival booth. The sky was cloudless, the air thick with humidity and the bright sunlight shimmered like a mirage off the couple's skin, generating a blinding aura that forced Alex to squint until her eyes adjusted. Behind them, colorful carnival booths and amusement park rides spread out in all directions, controlled in their range only by a chain-link fence that circled the perimeter of the park. Young children ran between food and games booths, dragging beleaguered parents behind while teenagers clustered in their social groups. To her right, the distinctive sounds and smells of the pony rides seasoned the breeze.

"No problem."

Alex was mildly surprised to find that she actually meant it. She had shocked even herself when, after arriving back at the cabin from her morning run and learning of Faith's predicament from Bobby, she had so readily offered to step in. Normally a spontaneous decision that so drastically altered her predetermined plan for the day would have been accompanied by crippling anxiety. Today was different. She was different. Better even.

_Alex 2.0_

Faith, on the other hand, looked worse than Alex had ever seen her. Dark circles highlighted the hollows under her eyes and her skin appeared sallow and stretched tight over her fine cheekbones. Her hair had been hijacked by the humidity, her normally smooth curls a mass of frizz. A smudge of black mud cut down her left leg just below her knee like a crusty scab. Bobby looked far more put together in comparison, hair slicked back, eyes obscured by a pair of dark sunglasses, hands shoved into the pockets of his cargo shorts.

"I really do appreciate it." Faith hugged a brown clipboard to her chest, the muscles in her sculpted arms working under the skin. Her gaze absently followed a gaggle of pre-teens that trampled the grass behind her as they ran, laughing, toward the line for the Tilt-a-Whirl. "I've been on the organizing committee for Portland's Annual Summer Fair for the last four years and I have never had this many volunteers call in sick before."

"Well, no one would know that you've been scrambling all morning. Things seem to be running well. My booth has been busy all morning and I haven't heard any complaints." Alex dumped a handful of toy dinosaurs into one of the wooden bushel baskets that lined the floor, each filled with a different prize – bags of candy, bouncy balls, slinky knockoffs, plastic figures and cheaply made stuffed animals. "This is the first lull in the action I've had all morning to restock."

"That's good to hear." Faith raked a hand through her hair, eyes darting around as if anticipating a disaster at any moment. "I was worried for a while there that we would be so behind and disorganized that people would show up but wouldn't stay."

"You need to relax." Bobby placed a comforting hand on his girlfriend's thin shoulder. "People are, uh, enjoying themselves. It's going to be fine."

She barely seemed to notice his touch, distracted as she was by something happening out of sight off to their right, and Bobby dropped his hand quickly. It hadn't escaped Alex's attention that things had been frosty between the two lovebirds since they arrived at the park that morning. They kept more distance than usual between them and Faith had snapped at Bobby several times as they were unloading boxes from his vehicle. Alex had chalked it up to stress, and perhaps it was, but she couldn't help but wonder if the cancellation of their date the previous night factored into the mood. She tried to assuage her guilt about that by being extra helpful and filling in gaps in the conversation with inane babble. She was extremely relieved when they had finally left her alone in her rented booth to manage the growing line of eager contestants.

"I hope so." Faith's hand flew up to her right ear where a black earpiece resided. She listened with a frown for a moment, staring sightlessly through the back of the booth. "Hang on, I'll be right back."

Spinning on her heel, Faith stalked away on some unknown errand. Bobby watched her go before turning back to look at Alex with a shrug.

"Was she talking to you or me?"

"No idea," Alex chuckled. Grabbing a cloth, she started wiping down the lacquered counter in front of her. "But if I were you, I wouldn't go too far. Not the day to be poking the angry bear."

Bobby laughed, his teeth white against his tanned face. Her heart raced as she was reminded yet again of what a handsome man he was. The image of him sitting in front of her on that coffee table, their knees brushing together, his fingers gentle against her skin, flashed unbidden behind her eyes.

_It would have taken absolutely nothing for him to lean forward and kiss you but he didn't. You would be wise to remember that. _

Dragging her thoughts back to the present, Alex started scrubbing at puddles of water on the countertop as if they were stubborn stains. "All ready for your magic show later?"

Bobby nodded, stepping closer to the counter and picking up one of the water guns that was resting in its stand. "All set. So, uh, how does this game work anyway?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at him, hand halting mid-wipe. "What do you mean, how does it work? This is one of the oldest carnival games of all time. Haven't you ever seen one at a fair before?"

He shook his head, turning the water gun this way and that in his hand, examining it. The attached hose wiggled around below it like a worm. "We didn't go to carnivals or fairs much. Mom, well . . . uh . . . big crowds like this weren't exactly her thing."

Tossing the cloth on a shelf under the counter, Alex opened the swinging panel on the right and stepped outside the booth, coming around to stand beside him. A row of brightly painted clown heads, mouths agape, stared back at them.

"It's a water balloon race," she explained, picking up a gun from its silver stand at the station beside Bobby's and pointing it at the clown targets in front of them. "You shoot a stream of water into the clown's mouth. See the balloon attached? The better your aim, the quicker it fills up. The winner is the first person who fills the balloon so full it pops. Want to give it a try while I wait for some actual paying customers?"

"That depends." Bobby winked at her with a mischievous grin. "Are you ready to, uh, lose?"

"Oh, you think so?" Alex smiled back at him as she reached over the counter and flicked the switch to start the countdown. "Come on. We both know I've always had the better aim."

Grasping their plastic pistols, they both assumed the stance, veteran cops at a liquid shooting range. The clock at the back of the booth counted down from five, red digital numbers decreasing like those in a descending elevator.

"You're going down, Eames."

"In your dreams, Goren."

Alex drew a deep breath, exhaled slowly and took aim. When the bell rang to signal the start of the competition, she squeezed her trigger and a stream of water came out straight and true, her yellow balloon starting to swell immediately.

Bobby mirrored her body position, but it was clear right away that her time at the shooting range was much more recent than his. He struggled to keep his aim steady, shoulders dropping slightly, causing the stream of water to spray off the clown's chin and create a refracted rainbow in the light that filtered into the booth.

As her lead grew incrementally, Alex felt a ludicrous spurt of pride.

_Maybe you haven't lost all your skills after all._

Recognizing that he was well on the way to losing, Bobby stepped closer and leaned into her, bumping her shoulder, disrupting her focus and sending her stream shooting over the clown's head.

"Hey!" Alex complained with a laugh, smacking him with the back of her free hand. "Knock it off. Stay on your own side."

Returning to his lane, Bobby tried in vain to make up some ground. Just when Alex was convinced her balloon was about to pop, he reached over again, his long arms allowing him to remain at his own station while still being able to grab at her gun. She kept jerking it away, water spraying everywhere as they both erupted into laughter. While she was preoccupied with fighting him off, Bobby took advantage of being left-handed and held his stream steady in the general direction of the target. Although his aim was miles from perfect, it was better than hers under his manufactured duress and Bobby's progress quickly outpaced hers until his balloon popped, pieces of mangled latex flying through the air.

"Winner!" Bobby crowed, raising his arms in victory. Leftover water in the line leaked down and pooled in his elbow before dripping onto the grass below.

"You're an ass," Alex laughed.

Thinking quickly, she reached over the counter and flipped the switch to start the machine again. Engrossed as he was in his celebration, Bobby didn't notice and had dropped his gun back onto the counter by the time the bell rang a second time. She took advantage of his distraction, pointing the water pistol in his direction and squeezing the trigger.

The stream of water hit him square in the chest, the pressure too weak to really hurt but powerful enough to kick up a spray that momentarily blinded him. By the time he had raised his hands to block the stream, she had lowered her aim and caught him with another shot to the stomach.

"Hey!" Bobby sputtered, lunging forward to try to wrest the gun away from her.

He may have been stronger but Alex had the agility advantage. She dodged him effortlessly, nailing him again with a shot to the side. Each time he tried to advance, she tagged him on a different part of the body, driving him back. Only when she stumbled over the thick black electrical wires that snaked across the grass behind her did he finally have the opportunity to grab his own pistol and return fire.

They battled back and forth, spray for spray, laughing, absorbed in their own private world until a kink in the line of Bobby's hose sealed his fate. His water supply abruptly cut off with a snap and she managed to get a few more good shots in before he threw his gun down and lunged at her again. Instinctively she turned to block him from grabbing her weapon, tucking it protectively in her midsection. He reached around her, searching for it, his arms solid around her body, his chest pressing against her back. Finally, laughing too hard to keep a secure hold, Alex released the gun and Bobby lifted her off her feet and twisted them both around until it was no longer within her reach.

"Okay, okay, I surrender," Alex gasped, struggling to catch her breath. When he lowered her feet back to the ground, she had to put a hand on the drenched counter to ground herself, partly due to oxygen deprivation from laughter and partly to the intense phantom sensation of his body pressed against hers.

They stood there for a few moments, chuckling and dripping and wringing out their clothes. When she glanced over at him next, he was wiping his sunglasses off with the bottom of his t-shirt, grinning foolishly. Suddenly, unexpectedly, something inside her melted like a candle in a campfire, releasing emotions that had long been trapped in the intricate wax of their lengthy relationship. A formidable wave of adoration knocked the returning breath from her lungs and sent her spiraling under its swells. She was lost.

_Alexandra Eames is in love._

Bobby must have felt her eyes on him because he looked up, a goofy smile still on his face.

"What?"

Her thoughts were so wildly ricocheting around her skull that she couldn't even begin to answer that simple question. She didn't even try, electing to cover up her internal turmoil with humor instead.

"Nothing. Just wondering if you were finally ready to concede defeat."

"Best two out of three?" Bobby suggested, reaching down to pick up the gun she had dropped. When he handed it back to her, he let his hand linger, his thumb whispering over her knuckles. "It's good to see you smile again. A, uh . . . real smile."

Alex was frantically figuring out how to reply to that when Bobby suddenly seemed distracted by something over her shoulder. Dropping his hand, he quickly shoved it back in his pocket. Although she could have guessed what was transpiring without looking, Alex glanced back and saw Faith standing maybe ten feet away, a boulder in the river of people flowing around her. Her face was a study in neutrality, but the pinched muscles between her eyebrows gave some clue as to how long she had been standing there and how much she had witnessed.

"You'd better go," Alex said quietly, turning back to face Bobby. "I think you're needed."

He hesitated for a moment, as if hoping for something more from her. When he didn't get it, he nodded and brushed past her. Alex busied herself cleaning up the booth so she didn't have to watch them walk away together.

* * *

He had the audience eating out of the palm of his hand.

Alex couldn't help but smile as she stood at the rear of the crowd gathered around a stage erected in the west corner of the park. "The Great Gordini" was in his element, traversing the stage with long strides, clad in a top hat and purple satin-lined cape, waving his magic wand around the rim of a square basket. The spectators, comprised mostly of young children and their parents sitting cross-legged on picnic blankets, paid rapt attention to his every move, exclaiming in all the right places as he pulled a twenty-foot pole from the small basket. Bobby seemed to be having the time of his life as well, gestures exaggerated and animated, enthusiasm so contagious that it rippled through the ocean of people and infected her.

_One in a million._

Her emotions were snarled, compartments of her heart swinging open for the first time in a long time as she allowed herself to acknowledge feelings that had been suppressed so deeply. It was like a switch had been flipped somewhere and suddenly, when she looked at him, she saw something in him that she hadn't seen, or at least permitted herself to see, the day before. A potential far beyond friendship. In that moment, she couldn't imagine herself ever being with anyone else.

With that acceptance came no small measure of sadness because, regardless of what she felt, Alex knew that it could not be.

_Too little, too late._

Bobby had made it perfectly clear that night on the yacht that any romantic feelings he had had for her were in the past. He was happier now than she had seen him, possibly ever, and obviously had fallen hard for Faith. Most importantly, he had found peace in Maine. She would never ask him to leave and her life, her job, her family were back in New York. She was far too old to be contemplating a long-distance relationship. Never mind the ever-present threat to their friendship if things went sour . . . a friendship she couldn't afford to lose, not right now, maybe not ever.

No, feelings aside, there were practicalities to be considered. Risks that she just couldn't take.

"Looks like The Great Gordini is a smash hit."

Faith suddenly materialized beside her, a specter rising from the earth. She had removed her earpiece and it dangled down over her shoulder forlornly.

"Yep. If his book doesn't sell, he could always go into the children's party business." Alex swatted at a fat honeybee that buzzed around her on a detour from a nearby lilac bush. "He used to perform magic tricks at my nieces' and nephew's birthdays when they were younger. The kids loved him."

Faith's smile was fragile. "I can't imagine his book not selling. Bobby seems to be good at pretty much everything he does. I doubt being an author will be any different."

"Probably not," Alex agreed, sweeping damp strands of hair off the back of her sweaty neck. "A man of many talents, Bobby is."

Up on the stage, the man in question had been joined by a young girl, maybe six years old. He crouched down before her, fanning out a deck of cards.

"Alex, can I ask you something? Woman to woman?" Faith still carried her clipboard and she hugged it against her chest again as she spoke.

A tiny spiral of anxiety coiled in her stomach but Alex tried to keep her tone cheerful. "Of course."

"What are your intentions? With Bobby?"

While the directness of the question caught her slightly off guard, the content had been more or less what Alex anticipated and she was prepared with some selective truths.

"Bobby and I are just friends. Really good friends. Best friends."

Faith regarded her uncertainly, scratching at a bright red mosquito bite on her arm before returning her gaze to the stage. "It's never been anything more than that? Ever? Even just once?"

Alex shook her head. "No, never. Just friends. I swear."

Faith's shoulders relaxed slightly but her expression remained guarded. "Sorry for being nosy. That's what Bobby said, but . . . I had to check. I'm sure I'm not the first girlfriend who's wondered."

_Well, you're the only one I know about._

Alex waved dismissively. "It's fine. We get asked that question a lot. But no. It's never been anything more than friendship."

"Did you ever wish it was?"

Faith's voice was deliberately light and devoid of judgment, but Alex could feel her face flame.

_Yeah, like ten seconds ago. _

Clearing her throat, she was astounded when her reply wasn't the standard flat-out denial.

"I'm not really sure that matters anymore."

Faith nodded as if Alex's avoidant non-answer was exactly as expected. "I apologize if I'm out of line for asking. I'm just trying to protect my heart here. I know I can't compete with you. If you're looking for more . . . well, then I'm just spinning my wheels. You're going to win."

"That's not true," Alex protested with a vehement shake of her head, kicking absently at a loose clump of sod by her toe. "Yes, we have a history, and that history has brought us close. I care for Bobby, deeply, and I know he cares about me too. He also cares for you though, that's obvious. If there was anything . . . romantic . . . that Bobby ever felt for me, it's in the past."

_He made that abundantly clear, believe me._

The crowd erupted into enthusiastic applause as Bobby wrapped up his final trick and took an embellished bow, tipping his top hat. The comical sight made the women smile in unison, both a little sadly.

Spikes of regret stabbing at her soul, Alex inhaled deeply and let it out slowly.

"Look, Bobby's happy . . . here in Maine . . . with you. And that's very important to me. He deserves that happiness, more than anyone I know. Maybe, if things were different . . . if he wasn't with you, if he wasn't so settled here in Maine . . . I'd be interested in something more. Maybe. But they're not. He's lucky to have you."

In front of them, the audience started to rise to its feet and the drone of conversation escalated. Faith kept her eyes trained on Alex as if searching every line on her face for any hint of a lie. It took a concerted effort but Alex was able to hold fast and maintain eye contact until some of the tension visibly drained from Faith's body and she sighed. The trepidation that had been present in her face since the start of the conversation remained but had dwindled.

"I'm the lucky one. He's a very special guy," Faith said finally. She jerked a thumb toward the stage where Bobby had just started to pack up his props. "I'm going to go congratulate him on his show. You coming?"

Alex shook her head, suddenly feeling every bit as exhausted as Faith looked from the rollercoaster of emotion. The urge to find a quiet place, where she could be alone, was overwhelming. "I'd better get back to my booth. I'll catch up with you guys later."

Faith took a step forward before stopping abruptly and turning to face Alex again, smiling tentatively but warmly. "Thank you, for being honest. I'll do right by him. I promise."

Alex tried to return the smile but her mouth quivered and crumbled at the corners.

"I know you will."

* * *

_A/N – Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and is sticking with this story. It is greatly appreciated. I can assure you, I am B/A all the way, so please don't give up hope for our heroes just yet. Better is yet to come. _

_Huge thanks to WendyCR72 who has helped keep this story on track when I was convinced it was going off the rails__. It is better for her influence. _


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 – Conflicted**

It felt good to get dressed up again.

The restrooms at the Ocean Gateway were positively palatial. The powder room alone was nearly as expansive as her entire apartment. The floor was veined marble, the contemporary fixtures a shiny chrome, the hand towels fluffy white. A seating area featured two cream-colored loveseats grouped around a wall-mounted flat screen TV. Modern lighting dangled from thick cables overhead and illuminated her face as Alex leaned over the vanity, squinted into the mirror and drew the black liquid eyeliner carefully along her bottom lid.

"So? What do you think?"

Faith breezed in from the rear of the restroom to stand beside her in front of the mirror. Her sky blue dress clung to her curves like a second skin and she smoothed it back down over her hips, head tilted to one side as she sized up her reflection.

"Of Ravi?" Straightening, Alex wiped away an errant smudge of charcoal at the corner of her right eye. "He's nice."

It was true, he was. Handsome, well-mannered and charming to boot. When Faith had begged for the chance to set her up with one of her friends, Alex had groaned internally. She hadn't been on a date in so long, she wasn't sure she remembered how to act. The concept of a blind date seemed doubly daunting. It was only the prospect of serving as an extra in the Bobby and Faith show that eventually convinced her to acquiesce. For a first kick back at the can, she certainly could have done worse than Ravi. Under different circumstances, she might have invested more effort in getting to know him. Today, her heart just wasn't in it. While she enjoyed his company, that was as far as it went.

_Can't put your heart into something when it's already taken . . . _

"Just nice? Ouch." Faith frowned at her image as she tugged at strands of her hair, separating curls. "Well he's totally into you, and he's pretty picky, so that's saying a lot. He enjoys your sense of humor and thinks you look f-i-n-e fine tonight."

Alex rolled her eyes at the relayed compliment but a secret swirl of pleasure curled in her stomach. Her suitcase hadn't contained anything nearly dressy enough for a formal benefit dinner, so she had gone on a last minute shopping excursion after the Portland Summer Fair. After an hour and a half of searching, she had nearly given up hope of finding something when she stumbled on a delicate chiffon dress. It was more feminine than she was typically drawn to but over the last few days she had been feeling the urge to reinvent herself. The high-waisted burgundy sleeveless halter dress breathed lightly over her skin. The hem was asymmetrical, cut up high on one side, showcasing a healthy length of thigh, while the other brushed against her ankle. Her long hair, lightened by all the recent sun, was parted to one side and cascaded over her shoulder in a thick French braid.

For the first time in a long time, she felt beautiful.

"He's too kind," Alex murmured, rummaging around in her clutch for an eye shadow palette. "He seems like a great guy. It's not him, it's me. I suck at this whole casual dating thing. Give him another hour and he'll be changing his tune."

"I don't think so." Faith touched up her lipstick, examining her handiwork with an exaggerated pout. "Do me a favor and give him a chance, okay? You might be pleasantly surprised."

Located on the waterfront, the Ocean Gateway was a master class in modern architecture. The venue, designed to resemble the prow of a ship, was floor-to-ceiling glass panels with a beautiful view of the water and adjacent islands. Inside, the dinner dishes had been cleared away, the tables shoved out to the edges of the space. The hardwood dance floor in the center of the room was packed as the two women pushed through the swinging door of the restroom. A DJ spun Top 40 off to the right and a cluster of revelers lurked around his booth, scrawling song requests on scraps of paper.

When the women had departed a few minutes earlier, there had been two men at their table; now only Ravi remained, drumming his fingertips on the white tablecloth. When he saw Alex approach, he stood and pulled out her chair. His mocha skin was an attractive contrast to his white teeth as he smiled.

_You could do worse. Beggars can't be choosers after all. Faith's right, it wouldn't hurt to give him a chance. Even just for one night . . . to help you forget._

"Where the hell has Bobby gotten off to now?" Faith grumbled, frowning as she tucked her legs beneath the table. Her irritation was palpable as she scanned the room, seeking the man in question.

Bobby had been undeniably difficult to pin down all day. Even when he was present, he wasn't. For the majority of the morning and early afternoon, he had been holed up in the den, hunkered down over his manuscript. The few times Alex had hesitantly ventured across the threshold to offer food, she had been sullenly rebuffed. Twice burned, she was careful to keep her distance, trying unsuccessfully to identify what she had done to offend him. His attitude did not improve with the arrival of Faith and Ravi. He barely said a word to any of them on the drive into town or over dinner. He was polite and charming with the other guests at the benefit, but when he turned back to his foursome, moody Bobby resurfaced, a fact that was clearly aggravating Faith to no end.

Twisting in his seat, Ravi nodded his head in the direction of the waltzing horde. "Last I saw him, he was heading out onto the dance floor with our guest of honor."

Alex caught sight of him first. He stood on the outskirts of the crowd, hand-in-hand with eight-year-old Mia, strutting his stuff to an upbeat pop tune. Cancer treatment had taken the young girl's hair but not her spirit. She had abandoned her wheelchair to caper with Bobby, smiling broadly as he twirled her around before breaking into a goofy version of the twist. When it was clear she was tiring, Bobby lifted her frail frame up onto his shoulders and continued to bop along gently while her parents, Bobby's neighbors, wiped away tears and snapped photos.

The sight sent an affectionate smile spreading across Alex's face.

_One in a billion._

Faith and Ravi were talking but she heard nothing, lost as she was in her own world. It was only when she felt Ravi's fingertips on her bare shoulder that she emerged from her trance.

"I'm sorry?"

Ravi smiled patiently and repeated himself. "Would you like to dance?"

Blinking rapidly, Alex shook her head slightly to clear out the cobwebs. The pop song had faded into the beginning strains of a ballad and the population on the dance floor was transitioning from individuals to couples. Bobby had lifted Mia off his shoulders and was gently lowering her back into her wheelchair.

_Yes, I would. Just not with you_.

* * *

The gardens outside the Ocean Gateway were summer lush.

They crowded the back patio, winding around the posts of the ornate wooden railing. Flowers thrived, emitting sweet fragrance into the warm night air. In the distance, white caps on the water appeared like ghosts in the dark. Here and there within the greenery, the flare of a firefly illuminated leaves and petals.

It had taken her a while to find him. He had disappeared again, almost immediately after leaving the dance floor. She had accepted Ravi's offer of a dance, albeit reluctantly, and spent the entire time trying in vain to spot Bobby in the crowd. Excusing herself at the end of the song under the pretense of getting another drink, Alex had circled the entire venue before she spotted him outside, alone. After glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention, she slipped out a side door.

She stood and watched him for a few minutes before approaching. He paced back and forth along the length of the patio, hands behind his back, stopping occasionally to stare out at the ocean. His shoulders were broad beneath his gray suit jacket and the ocean breeze ruffled his hair. Back in the venue, the party was still going strong and the muted thump of techno mixed with the rumble of the waves.

When he heard the click of her heels on the cobblestone, Bobby looked up for only a second before resuming his prowl.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," he grunted, still stalking back and forth like a caged animal. "Just needed some, uh, fresh air. You should get back inside . . . to your date."

She thought she detected a trace of venom in the final word, but it could have been her imagination.

"I'm sure your girlfriend is thinking the exact same thing about you." Moving forward, Alex placed herself strategically along the midpoint of the rail, effectively cutting his pacing path in half. "You've been doing a pretty damn good impression of the invisible man all night. What's up?"

Bobby finally slowed and eventually came to a halt a few feet away from her. Leaning his forearms on the railing, he looked out over the water for a minute before turning his gaze in her direction.

"You look . . ."

He trailed off slowly, his eyes tracing the contours of her body. A warm tingle started in her toes and swelled to the top of her head. She had been curious about the end to that sentence, from Bobby's perspective, all night. When she had originally walked into the cabin's living room in her new dress, he had barely glanced at her and said nothing. Now that she had his undivided attention, the full intensity of his stare was nearly too much.

"Ridiculous, I know," Alex chuckled self-effacingly, suddenly eager to downplay the importance of his opinion. "I don't know why I even bother trying to look fancy. I can never pull it off. I'm more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of girl."

"That's not what-"

Bobby cut himself off sharply with a shake of his head, muttering something indecipherable under his breath before changing the subject.

"I've been thinking . . . about, uh, life."

"Uh-oh." The corner of Alex's mouth quirked up into a dry smile as she leaned her hip against the railing. "That's dangerous."

"I'd forgotten, over these last few years since leaving Major Case, how . . . unfair it can be. Life."

"Not a bad thing to forget." Alex absently toyed with the end of her braid. "You're thinking about Mia."

Bobby nodded, running a finger along the smooth edge of the rail. "Her treatment, it's just buying time. Experimental. Her cancer is incurable. At best, she's got, uh . . . a couple months left, maybe. If the treatment keeps working."

Reaching over, she softly covered his hand with hers. "I'm sorry, Bobby. I know you're fond of her."

"Eight years old." Bobby shook his head sadly. "What sense does that make?"

"None. It's wrong."

"You think you have all the time in the world, and then . . ." Bobby looked back out over the rolling water in the distance, lips pressed into a thin line. "You, uh, don't."

"Life's short."

"It is." He glanced down at where their hands touched before slowly withdrawing his and clenching it in a loose fist at his side. "I'm . . . conflicted."

Gooseflesh suddenly erupted up and down her arms although she wasn't cold.

"About what?"

Bobby's smile was both sardonic and sad. "Do you really not know?"

Alex raised her eyebrows, hoping desperately that he couldn't hear how hard her heart was pounding.

"I'm not a mind reader, Bobby. You'll need to tell me."

Bobby inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, scrubbing his hands over his face as if exhausted. He looked at her for a long moment before laughing lightly.

"You know, for someone so smart . . ."

Closing the distance between them with one long stride, Bobby cupped her face in both of his hands and kissed her.

It wasn't a tentative kiss. It was a confident, strong kiss, ripe with unspoken emotion that literally ripped her breath away. She resisted a bit at first, out of pure shock, but he wasn't allowing it. He dropped his hands from her face and gripped the rail on either side of her, pinning her between it and his body, pressing them together. His mouth was warm and insistent and before long she melted and kissed him back just as hard. They were swept away in the moment, until the need to breathe could no longer be denied and they reluctantly drew apart.

"Do you get it, uh . . . now?" Bobby's voice was hoarse, his cheeks as flushed as hers felt.

"Well, I sure do."

A voice from behind sent them leaping apart as if electrocuted. Faith stood off to the side, arms squeezed tightly around herself as if afraid, without the support, she would crumble.

* * *

She left them alone on the patio.

A winding sand path led down from the Ocean Gateway, over a set of dunes and out to the sea. Alex followed it carefully, eyes straining through the dark. Her high heels dangled off a finger as she descended through the sand mounds, reveling in the grounding sensation of the grains between her toes. Closer to the waterline, the footing transitioned to thick mud. When she stopped to let the tide course over her feet, she sunk up to her ankles in the dense quicksand.

_He kissed you. Bobby actually kissed you. And you kissed him back . . . _

_. . . And it was incredible._

Her lips still smoldered, her face flushed. Even the cool ocean couldn't extinguish the fire raging in her body. It was the most passionate kiss of her life and she replayed it over and over on a loop in her mind. The events of the night had both disoriented and exhilarated her and left far more questions than answers.

As the sea breeze tangled her dress around her legs, Alex wished fleetingly that she had told Bobby that yes, she did get it now, that she felt the same, before she had vanished from the patio. She knew he had to be feeling guilty. He had a finely tuned moral compass; he wasn't a cheater and it would weigh heavily on him that he had hurt Faith. The unknown was what he would do with that guilt.

_Does he regret the kiss? Or did he feel what you felt?_

_Is he, at this very moment, begging Faith to take him back?_

With a sigh, Alex wrenched her feet out of the mud. It was so thick it took her a full minute to extricate herself and clamber up onto more solid ground.

She was halfway back up the path when she ran into Faith coming down.

It was so dark out there by the water that the two women nearly collided. As soon as Faith realized it was Alex approaching, she groaned, muttered an expletive and spun on her heel to return from whence she came.

"Faith, wait!" Alex jogged up the dune, slipping and sliding in the loose sand. She was actually surprised when Faith obliged, stopping so quickly that Alex nearly slammed into her back.

"What?"

The words were cool and hard but there was a waver in Faith's voice that she couldn't disguise and her eyes were shiny with unshed tears. Alex felt a pang of sympathy zing her chest.

"Look, I'm sorry."

Faith regarded her carefully for a moment and then shook her head slowly. "I knew it. You both said all the right things, and I believed you. But I knew. In my heart I knew."

Alex sighed, tucking a strand of hair that had escaped from her braid behind her ear.

"We didn't intend for this to happen. We got caught up in a moment. Neither one of us wanted to hurt you, Bobby especially. It's just . . . complicated."

"You sound exactly like him," Faith scoffed, rolling her eyes. "No, I should have trusted my gut. The second he told me that he was going to do whatever it took to get you here, to Maine, I thought there had to be more to it than just a friend concerned about another friend's mental health. I was clearly right."

A shiver wracked Alex's body. "Bobby had nothing to do with my coming to Maine. He had no clue I was even coming until I called him. It was my Captain who set it up."

"Wait, is that what he told you?" Faith threw back her head and barked out a laugh. "That's not true at all."

Confused, Alex felt an ink black clot start to form in her chest. "What are you talking about?"

Faith grabbed a handful of tall dune grass and jerked it out by the roots. "You only got the job with the Portland PD because of Bobby. They wanted him to teach a profiling class. He said he would do it only if they agreed to bring you in to teach a class on advanced police procedures. It had nothing to do with your skills. It was pretty much just blackmail."

Alex felt the color drain from her face, mouth opening and closing soundlessly like a fish out of water, gasping for breath.

"You really didn't know . . ." Faith smirked before pushing past her down the dunes. "Bobby is the only reason you're here. Your Captain didn't choose you. He was just the messenger. Bobby was the architect."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10 – Intentions**

Her hands trembled the entire way home.

She had stood there for a long time, motionless and alone on the dunes, processing her conversation with Faith. It was as if the shock of the seaside revelation had instilled ice in her veins, effectively freezing her in place. When she finally collected her wits and was able to move again, she had stumbled back up to the Ocean Gateway as if her feet were on backward. The world had tilted on its axis twice that night – the first with a passionate kiss and the second with that rancorous disclosure. The net effect had her completely off balance. It took all the brain power she could muster to find her way back inside, to their mercifully empty table, grab her cell phone and call an Uber.

_It was all a lie._

The young driver attempted to make conversation but Alex rudely ignored him, cramming herself into the far corner of the Audi's rear leather seats. After a few minutes he abandoned the effort with a shrug, cranking up the satellite radio and singing along tunelessly. Stars pockmarked the night sky above, growing brighter as the lights of the city receded behind them. Leaning her head back against the headrest, she closed her eyes wearily and tucked her shaking hands under her thighs. The narrative of the last eight days had changed so drastically that she could almost have convinced herself it had been a dream.

_You never should have come._

She hadn't realized just how much Hannah's confidence in her skills and expertise had truly meant until she found out it had never really existed. After a year of failure, it had brought hope; a hope that had now been snuffed out. It had been a pity invite, nothing more. She had ridden in on Bobby's coattails, not on her own merit.

_Story of my life._

Anger and embarrassment warred with the despair that accompanied the loss of that precious perceived competence. It was clear that Bobby and Hannah had been talking about her, about how she had been struggling, and that thought was absolutely mortifying. She had purposely withheld details of her demotion from Bobby, too ashamed to admit to that particular shortfall, yet he had known all along. And hadn't told her. Instead, he had allowed her to believe a lie. He had betrayed her trust.

_And not for the first time. Why would you expect anything different?_

Back at the empty cabin, Alex made a beeline for her room, kicking off her heels as she went. She immediately removed her dress, crumpling it up into a ball and tossing it into the wire wastebasket before slipping into her usual summer attire of jean shorts and a tank top.

_To hell with this whole night._

Alex dragged her luggage out of the closet and launched it on her bed. Yanking open the bureau, she began shoving clothes almost violently into the suitcase's maw. Distracted by her misery, she missed the approach of his Jeep and the slam of the car door. It was the click of the key in the lock and the sound of the screen door snapping closed that drew her back to the moment. Her body tensed involuntarily as his heavy footfalls drew closer and grew louder. Turning her back to the doorway, she threw all of her energy into opening drawers and stuffing her suitcase, mentally preparing herself to ignore him.

"Where're you going?"

When she eventually grudgingly glanced up, Bobby was leaning against the door frame as if holding it in place. His hair was disheveled, his heavy linen jacket creased. He had removed his tie and undone the top few buttons of his dress shirt, exposing a small swath of chest. Although the kiss now seemed a lifetime ago, imprisoned as it was behind a bad memory, sullied and dirty, it was still vivid and woke her primal side. She had to fight the urge to eliminate the distance between them, undo the rest of the buttons and let her hands, and then her lips, leisurely explore the exposed skin.

_Stop it._

From his hangdog expression, Alex could tell that Faith had brought Bobby up to speed on their conversation. He didn't appear at all surprised to find her there, packing. He looked subdued instead, possibly even remorseful, which raised her ire even more.

_You knew it was wrong. And you did it anyway. _

Lips pressed into a thin line, Alex continued ripping the bureau drawers open far more aggressively than was necessary.

"I've rented an Airbnb in Portland for the rest of this teaching gig."

Bobby's dark eyes watched her dump armfuls of clothes into her suitcase. "I wish you would, uh . . . stay."

Alex laughed mirthlessly as she grabbed her purple toiletries bag off the nightstand. "Well, I wish you hadn't been scheming with my Captain behind my back. We don't always get what we want, Bobby. You should know that better than anyone."

"I'm sorry."

The apology was more readily forthcoming than she had anticipated and it surprised her just a little, even though it was still hardly sufficient.

"I just didn't know what else to, to do."

"How dare you!" Alex slammed her compact so hard into her toiletries bag that the disc of powder snapped, dissolving into chunks and piling up on one side of the plastic like a landslide. "How dare you gossip about me with my Captain. MY Captain, Bobby, not yours, not anymore. This is MY life and you intentionally went and meddled in it and told everyone else BUT me what you were doing. How in the hell do you think that makes me feel?! It's embarrassing. You made me look like a complete fool."

Bobby squared his shoulders and straightened as a flicker of fire ignited in his eyes. He kept his voice level but notes of indignant strain snuck through.

"I was worried."

"Well you could have just fucking told me that!" Alex snapped, glaring at him as she scooped the rest of her cosmetics off the top of the bureau. "That's what normal people do, Bobby. Not this cloak-and-dagger routine."

"No, I actually couldn't have!" Bobby exploded, his face reddening and creasing with anger. "Because you stopped answering my phone calls. And my emails. You slowly vanished out of my life . . . without even a second thought or an explanation why. After 12 years of partnership. And friendship. How the hell do you think that made ME feel?"

"Oh no, you are NOT blaming me for that. No, no, no." She jerked the zipper on her toiletries bag closed and hurled it into her suitcase before pointing a finger squarely at him. "It's YOU who walked away, Bobby. Just when we were finally finding our groove again. YOU made the decision to end our partnership."

Bobby de-escalated as quickly as he had escalated, color draining from his face and hands relaxing at his sides. Squeezing his eyes shut, he took a deep breath and released it slowly.

"Our partnership. Not our friendship. And even that was the hardest decision I ever made . . . in my life. Because of you. Because of my feelings . . . for you. And believe me, it's a decision, I've . . . uh regretted."

"Oh come off it," Alex scoffed, slamming closed the lid of her suitcase. "You're happier than I've ever seen you. Your life is fucking perfect. What is there to regret?"

Bobby's shoulders slumped slightly and he resumed his lean against the white wood frame, avoiding her glare. "What happened . . . to you. If I hadn't left . . ."

Feeling all of the fight suddenly evaporate from her body, Alex plopped down on the bed with a sigh, springs squeaking under the pressure. "Oh Bobby. You can't possibly blame yourself for that."

He shook his head, staring out the window into the dark where the stars shone like polished gems. "Not for, for the accident. But for putting you on the path to it. If I hadn't . . . left, maybe you wouldn't have joined the Task Force. Maybe then you wouldn't have ended up getting hurt . . ."

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off an impending headache. "That's silly. What happened had nothing to do with you."

Pushing off the door frame, Bobby took a few cautious steps forward and tentatively lowered himself on the edge of the bed beside her, still avoiding her gaze. "I know that . . . logically. But seeing you in that hospital bed, I felt so, so powerless . . . and I would have done anything to make it go away."

Finally, he met her eyes, expression serious. "I still would."

"That's a really nice sentiment, Bobby." Alex removed the clear elastic from her hair and began unwinding her braid absently. As the strands emerged from their coiff, they cascaded around her face in gentle waves. "But there's nothing you could have done."

"I wish you would have at least let me try to help. But you shut me out. In the hospital . . ." Bobby fidgeted beside her, clearly distressed. ". . . and ever since."

Deflated, Alex sighed. "I'm sorry about that. It was hard for me, after you retired. Harder than I thought it would be. I was happy for you, I was, but I was also a bit lost. And then after the incident, I was just a wreck. I didn't want to talk to anyone."

Bobby twisted his hands together in this lap. "And I'm sorry that I misled you, I really am. But when you stopped responding, I became . . . uh, desperate. When I heard how much you were struggling, I got scared. Scared that I was going to get a call that you were . . ."

He broke off, swallowing hard, and left that thought to hang in the air.

"I didn't feel like I had a choice. I thought if I could just get you here . . . I could help."

_You have helped, Bobby. Damn you, you have._

Alex drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders to try to release tension. "I appreciate your concern, Bobby. I do. But it doesn't give you the right to do what you did. You made me look like a naive idiot. How would you feel if you found out that two people you respect and admire were talking about you behind your back?"

"I know exactly what that feels like," Bobby snapped, an edge of sharpness momentarily creeping back into his tone. "I'm the whackjob, remember?"

Alex flushed pink as his barb sunk in, suddenly reminded of all the times she herself had stood in her Captain's office, talking about Bobby. It was to defend him, sure, to justify his behavior, with the best of intentions, but still . . .

_Is what Bobby did really any different than that?_

"You're not a whackjob, Bobby. You never were."

Bobby rubbed the heel of his palm into an eye. "You're the only one who ever, uh, believed that. I thought you would have been glad to be rid of me when I retired."

Alex smiled lightly and then grew somber again, swept away by a sudden tsunami of mental and emotional exhaustion. "It wasn't the same. You're the best, Bobby. You really are."

Bobby brushed her now loose and wavy hair back behind her shoulder, his fingers grazing over the delicate skin of her collarbone and leaving a tingle in their wake. "I'm sorry I . . . uh . . . hurt you."

She shook her head slowly, trying to quiet the buzz of anticipation that had started to build in her body with even that most light of touches.

"I honestly thought I had gotten this job based on my abilities. Not on pity. And I needed that, Bobby. I really did."

Bobby tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Well, regardless of how you got the job, you've made a hell of an impression."

Alex snorted, fiddling with the gold bracelet she had forgotten to shuck with her dress. "Yeah, but not a good one."

"No, you have." Bobby shifted slightly beside her, rubbing his hands over the fabric of his pants. "I ran into the Police Chief on my way out of the venue. He was singing your praises. Really talking you up."

Alex rolled her eyes but secretly felt a rush of pleasure. They sat in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, both of them staring down at the intricate pattern of the carpet. She could sense the edge of a precipice beneath her toes and her mind agonized over the decision to turn back or step over.

It was Bobby who ended up giving voice to her internal struggle. "So . . . where do we go . . . from here?"

_I don't know. I really don't. Everything is so . . . complicated now._

Alex shrugged sadly. "I'm not sure. But I think we could both use some space, to think."

Bobby went very still for a moment. She could sense his body tense and then relax before he nodded.

"You're probably right."

With significant but reluctant effort, Alex hauled herself up to a standing position and zipped up her suitcase. One of the wheels caught on the duvet as she dragged it off the bed, causing it to bunch up beside Bobby.

"I'll call you. In a few days."

By the time she had lugged all of her possessions to her rental car, Bobby had disappeared out to the back deck. She didn't say goodbye before driving away.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11 – Fireworks**

"Sure you don't want any help?"

The fourth of July dawned scorching hot. By midday, the heat was suffocating. As Alex sat on a huge tree stump, elbows on knees, chin on hands, she could feel the skin on her shoulders crisping despite a thick layer of sunscreen. The sky was a stunning azure blue, devoid of clouds. Birds wheeled and swooped and sang against the cerulean backdrop. Further down the shore, voices carried over the water and the smell of sizzling barbecued meat made her stomach rumble.

"No, no, I've got it."

Bobby was crouched beside the old ATV, fiddling with the motor, the back of his t-shirt stained with sweat, the front with a smear of grease. Occasionally he would stand and crank the key in the ignition, swearing under his breath when the motor sputtered teasingly but refused to turn over. A squirrel bounded out of the bush behind the shed, stopping abruptly and sitting up on its haunches when it caught sight of the hulking obstacle in its path. After eyeing Bobby warily, it elected to change course and retreated into the undergrowth.

_Smart creature. Stay away from stubborn men. Just like I should have._

She had called him a few days after the benefit dinner as promised, determined to be above reproach in maintaining communication going forward. Their conversation had been stilted at first, both on uncertain ground after their airing of grievances, but before long it had settled into more comfortable discourse and she became sharply aware of how much she had missed him. The Airbnb studio she was renting in Portland was lovely but lonely after an enjoyable week of shared meals, companionable evenings and a passionate kiss that left more questions than answers. When Bobby had haltingly asked if she would like to join him to watch the fireworks display, she had leapt at the opportunity. Now, watching the muscles in his arm flex beneath his tanned skin as he tinkered with the motor, she was incredibly glad that she had.

_Keep it in your pants. Remember, the man deceived you. _

It was wrong of him to lie to her, Alex knew that, but by the next day her anger had already abated significantly. He was right – she had indeed cut him out, and off. Lying in bed that night, staring at the cream ceiling of the studio, she reflected back on Bobby's dark period following the Tates fiasco. He had cut her off then and she had essentially stalked him, calling repeatedly, dropping by his favorite haunts, until she had finally tracked him down at that diner. She had convinced herself her behavior was acceptable because she was concerned for his well-being. Was that really any different than his motivation now? His ploy was more elaborate certainly, but the intentions in both situations were good. To what lengths would she have gone had he lived in another state at that time?

The sound of the motor finally jolting to life brought Alex back to the present. Straightening, Bobby wiped his hands on his shorts, a goofy smile illuminating his features.

"There. All set?"

"Yep. Let's go."

When Bobby informed her that he had borrowed an ATV from his neighbors to transport them to an overlook in the nearby hills, she had initially been dubious about the astuteness of that decision. She had considered the four-wheeling skills of her urban former partner highly questionable despite his assertions that he had been out on one on several occasions. Any concerns were allayed quickly however, as Bobby proved to be a capable navigator over the uneven terrain. He maneuvered the ATV expertly along the dirt path that started a short distance down the road from his cabin. The trail wound through the trees and up, littered with rocks and stumps of various sizes. In the open stretches, he picked up speed to tackle the inclines.

Alex had started the trip gripping the rack on the back of the machine to keep from sliding off around corners and over bumps. After a while, that strategy strained her shoulders and she was forced to lean forward, wrapping her arms around Bobby's waist instead to anchor her body in the seat. Given his girth and the length of her arms, she had to press herself tightly against his back to get a good grip. Bobby glanced at her but said nothing.

After twenty minutes, the trail suddenly narrowed drastically before flying wide open, spitting them out into a clearing partway up the hill. The overlook loomed fifty feet ahead, across a patch of bright green grass, the drop-off protected by a metal railing. From that height, there was nothing but treetops in all directions. A small waterfall cascaded from a ledge above, morphing into a creek that spanned a third of the plateau before disappearing over the cliff where it would eventually, some ways down, join up with the lake.

"Holy cow," Alex gasped as Bobby brought the ATV to a shuddering stop just outside the forest wall. "This is beautiful. It looks like an artist's rendering of Eden."

"It's a hidden gem," Bobby agreed, killing the ignition. As the motor noise died, the sounds of nature swelled up around them. "The locals know it's here. And you get a few, uh . . . hardcore hikers stopping by sometimes. Overall though, it's mostly undisturbed. That's why it stays so lush."

Realizing that she was still pressed against his back even though it was no longer necessary, Alex relaxed her grip and slid back in the seat to create space. "It's incredible."

"Best view in town. And see over there?" Bobby pointed to the sky due east. "That's where the fireworks will be tonight. I came here last year too. It's a truly impressive display at this height."

Alex suppressed the urge to ask if he had been alone last year, or if he had shared this exact view with another woman.

_Not your business. And don't ask questions you don't want the answer to. _

They hadn't talked about the kiss since it happened. Part of her was glad – if he had suggested it had been a mistake, or that it didn't mean anything, or that he hadn't felt anything, she would have been crushed. At the same time, the uncertainty surrounding their relationship status was excruciating. That kiss had ignited a fire in her belly that had been dormant for a very long time. She had been trying to extinguish it for days, reminding herself a million times of all the reasons that it couldn't be, shouldn't be.

_You have a job, family, friends, an apartment back in New York. Your life is there. Bobby's life is here. He's happy here. You cannot ask him, or allow him, to sacrifice that to return to the city, where so many of his demons lie in wait. _

No matter what she tried though, the flames just could not be smothered. Now that Alex had allowed herself to experience the depth of her feelings for Bobby, there was no turning back. She wanted more. She wanted him. It was his stance on the situation that remained a big question mark. For all she knew, he was still with Faith. It was entirely possible that they had reconciled and that was driving his avoidance of any discussion of that night. Another question she was afraid to ask for fear it would strain what they had just started to delicately rebuild.

They had brought a picnic for dinner – sandwiches, potato chips, macaroni salad, wine, fruit, chocolate chip cookies - and they fanned the containers out on a blanket on the grass. Butterflies skimmed past their feet and landed hopefully on the plastic wrap covering the fruit for a moment before floating away again dejectedly. The late afternoon sun may have lost some of its potency closer to the ground but it was hotter than ever on the overlook as they hammered a large beach umbrella into the soil to provide solace from its glare. By the time everything was set up, they were both drenched in sweat.

Alex wiped her damp forehead on the sleeve of her T-shirt. "I think that's everything. Are you good if I just jump under that waterfall for a second to cool off before we eat?"

"Sure." Bobby jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm just going to go grab my cell phone. Left it on the ATV."

As he traipsed back to the waiting four-wheeler, Alex stripped down to her bikini, walked over to the creek and stepped under the gurgling waterfall. It was by no means powerful - the pressure wasn't significantly more than that provided by a full flow shower head - but it was refreshingly cool. As she let the water wash over her, she could feel the grime and sweat sloughing away. Closing her eyes, she pulled out her ponytail and turned her face up into the flow, letting her long hair stream down behind her.

_Heaven_.

She opened her eyes again just in time to see Bobby, returning from the ATV, walk straight into the umbrella.

He'd been staring at her so intently that he hadn't been paying attention to where he was walking. The sudden impact startled him and sent the umbrella toppling to the side. While frantically trying to keep it upright, he tripped over the pole, knocked over a cooler, stumbled, got his feet tangled up in a blanket and nearly did a face plant on the grass before finally regaining his equilibrium.

Alex couldn't help but feel a bit smug as she slipped back behind the cascading water and pretended she hadn't noticed his impromptu floor routine. She had selected her bathing suit with great care that morning, brooding for hours in front of the mirror. She tried to dismiss the uncharacteristic hyper awareness of her appearance on normal female self-consciousness, but truth was that she had really wanted to look good. For Bobby. Eventually, she settled on her most recent purchase, a cute little string bikini that highlighted her curves. She wasn't immodest but she knew that she had a nice body and Bobby's reaction clearly suggested that he had noticed that as well.

_Hey, you teased me with a kiss. Now it's my turn. Eat your heart out, Robert Goren._

* * *

A bank of heavy clouds had built in the west as they set out their picnic feast, the white lids of the coolers doubling as tables. They sat across from each other, cross-legged, chatting amiably about the weather and other matters of negligible significance, both avoiding any dialog heavier than a friendly debate about politics. As Alex watched him, struggling to remove the cork from their second bottle of wine, she felt a profound sense of both affection and sadness. At best, there was a week and a half left in this teaching gig and then she would be heading back to New York. They would stay in touch this time, she was confident of that, but it wouldn't be the same. She had quickly acclimatized to seeing him every day again and knowing that that would soon be coming to an end bled some of the joy from an otherwise lovely moment.

As dusk fell, they strapped the coolers and umbrella back on the ATV and stacked outdoor cushions beneath their blankets so they could lay back and still be propped up enough to watch the fireworks. In the distance, spotlights swung through the air and a halo of light christened the treetops in the vicinity of the Portland fairgrounds where the fourth of July celebration was in full swing.

"Thanks for bringing me here Bobby." Alex turned her head on her pillow mountain to look at him, hair brushing against her cheek. "It's been a really nice evening."

Bobby remained staring straight up at the sky, wringing his hands absently. "I'm glad you . . . you came."

Two shared bottles of wine had instilled liquid courage in her veins and finally allowed her to cautiously raise the mildest of the questions that had been troubling her all night.

"So, where's Faith tonight?"

He took a deep breath, gaze still firmly affixed on the thickening clouds above. "I don't know. We, uh . . . broke up."

Her heart started pounding so hard that she was sure her entire body must have been vibrating. "I'm sorry, Bobby."

Bobby shook his head but still wouldn't look at her. "It's okay. It was a, a . . . mutual decision. She was obviously really hurt by . . . y-you know."

_Oh, I know. I'm not likely to ever forget._

"She was hurt, and angry, and wanted me to say that the . . . the . . . kiss . . . was a mistake, that I regretted it," Bobby continued, running a hand through his hair. "If I had, maybe our relationship could have been salvaged. But I couldn't. And Faith deserves better."

Finally, he rolled onto his side to face her, propping his head up on a hand and fixing her with the full intensity of his dark eyes. "And I want to apologize to . . to you. I was out of line, pushing myself on you like that. You also deserve better. I was just . . . just . . . so caught up in you that night."

The first batch of fireworks rocketed up into the sky with a whistle before exploding into a bloom of color. Alex raised her eyebrows incredulously, pulse throbbing.

"Caught up in me? You barely seemed to notice me all night. You avoided me like the plague."

"Do I need to tell you why that . . . that was?" Bobby chuckled dryly. "I noticed you alright. In fact, I couldn't take my eyes off you. You looked . . . just stunning. I was worried, if I was too close, I would . . . lose control. I was right to be worried I guess, because I did."

Reaching over, Alex brushed back a curl that had fallen over Bobby's forehead. "You don't need to apologize. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself and I'm not afraid to use force where necessary. If I hadn't wanted you to kiss me, I wouldn't have let you."

She went to pull her hand back but Bobby caught it and held it in his, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"So what do you think would happen, if I were to kiss you again?"

One corner of Alex's mouth quirked up into a smile as the barrage of fireworks continued to light up the sky.

"I guess you'll just have to try and find out."

Bobby's smile mirrored her own as he cupped her face and covered her mouth with his. The mood was less frantic this time but no less passionate. He drew her closer, hand slipping beneath her t-shirt to lightly caress the bare skin of her back, sending an anticipatory thrill through her body. They lay together on the blanket, making out to a soundtrack of pops and cracks and fizzes, illuminated occasionally by the bright colors in the sky. They kissed, laughed and whispered to each other, legs tangled together like snarled roots, until they were both literally out of breath.

Neither noticed when the fireworks display reached its conclusion, the overlook descending into silence and the sky darkening. It was a loud rumble of thunder and the first few heavy drops of rain that eventually forced them apart and sent them scrambling to gather up the remaining blankets and pillows. They were halfway back to the ATV when the sporadic raindrops suddenly multiplied exponentially and the heavens unleashed a deluge.

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the cabin, they were absolutely drenched. Soaked to the bone.

They made a mad dash for the front door after tucking the ATV back into the shed, dodging hail, stumbling over the threshold, laughing, two drowned rats. Alex's hair was stuck to her face and her clothing clung to her body. Bobby was similarly soggy, his curls pasted to his forehead, his white t-shirt turned transparent.

Outside, the storm raged on. Heavy rain pinged against the windows, lightning reflected off the lake, thunder sent vibrations through the floorboards. Inside, the cabin was still and quiet except for the tick of Bobby's grandfather clock. As their laughter died they grew somber, standing opposite each other in the dark, catching their breath. Alex's heart drummed against her rib cage, her hands trembled, and her body blazed with anticipation. Her rational mind had been hijacked; all of the valid reasons not to let this go any further bubbled up in her mind but never made it into her stream of consciousness.

After only a moment's hesitation, Alex grasped the hem of Bobby's sodden shirt and slowly drew it up over his head, drops of water puddling on the floor as she tossed it carelessly over the back of a nearby kitchen chair. It was the first time she had seen him without a shirt on and her eyes roamed greedily over his broad chest. The coarse hair tickled her palms as she gently ran her hands down from his shoulders and over his stomach.

"Alex . . ." Bobby breathed quietly, grabbing her hands to still them, dark eyes boring into her face.

"No overthinking this," Alex whispered, the words almost lost in the cacophony of the storm outside.

Holding his gaze, Alex slowly drew her own t-shirt up and over her head, lobbing it onto the dripping pile. Bobby's eyes lowered to trace the contours of her body hungrily. Sliding one hand behind her back, he tugged at the strings holding her bikini top in place, his nimble fingers making quick work of the knots. When it was completely untied, he let it fall unceremoniously onto the floor. His breath was as ragged as hers as she pulled his head down for a kiss, standing on her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

At that moment, any hesitation either of them may have been feeling evaporated and Bobby kissed her back with a degree of passion that she hadn't ever experienced before in her life. Pressing one hand into the small of her back, he pulled her against him and began backing them up toward his room. Along the way, engrossed as they were in each other, they bumped into a side table, knocking it askew, and sent a floor lamp crashing to the ground. Cursing, unable to wait any longer, Bobby picked her up effortlessly. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, hands tangling in his hair, mouth hot on his as they strode the remaining distance through the living area and disappeared into his bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12 – Phoenix**

"Hey Alex, wait up!"

The Portland PD squad room was uncharacteristically quiet that Friday afternoon following the July Fourth holiday. Most of the desks lining the bustling beehive were vacant; administrative staff had left around 4:30 pm, a number of detectives had taken the day off to put together a summer long weekend and the patrol officers were either out on the streets or at home after copious amounts of overtime from the previous day, corralling intoxicated revelers. The click of Alex's heels on the marble foyer floor had been the loudest noise in the space until her name was called and she turned to see Detective Wendy Harper hurrying after her.

The two women had struck up an easy friendship over the previous two weeks. Both in their late forties, women, and veteran members of the force, they had gravitated to each other almost immediately and would often sit and chat on Alex's break. Alex found Wendy to be intuitive, intelligent and empathetic and had enjoyed their lunchtime conversations immensely. Wendy reminded her a lot of Bobby, minus the significant eccentricities. Also like Bobby, she was on the verge of retiring, with the official date set for early spring.

"Glad I caught you before you left," Wendy panted, tucking her short brown hair behind her ears. "How was your Fourth?"

A smile crept across her face as Alex pondered how best to answer that question. "It was good. Great, actually."

_That's the understatement of the century. It was incredible._

So incredible in fact that Alex had floated on a high for the majority of the day. Even though they barely slept the night before, she had awoken refreshed and invigorated, her soul buoyant. She felt as if she could have run the distance from the cabin to the precinct without so much as stopping once for breath. Every moment that she wasn't focused on teaching, her mind and heart were full of Bobby.

Wendy hiked her purse up on her shoulder. "Did you do anything special?"

"Uh . . . No, not really." Alex had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep her relatively normal smile from transforming into a goofy grin. "Just relaxed."

_And made out with my former partner and best friend and had the most phenomenal sex of my life. You know, just another day._

"Yeah, us too," Wendy said, watching two kids ride by on their bikes, ringing their bells obnoxiously. "We were keeping it pretty low key because we go on vacation after today for two weeks. Heading off to visit family in Washington."

"Nice! Have a great time," Alex replied, harboring a secret stab of disappointment to be losing her lunch companion.

"That's why I'm glad I caught you." Wendy began rummaging around in her purse, brows furrowed. "Not sure if I ever told you this, but my husband owns a private investigations agency. It's why I'm retiring, actually. It's a small company, only six employees including us, but it's doing extremely well for being relatively new. He's been bringing in business from across the state, and from a few other states as well. So he needs my help."

Alex leaned back against the foyer wall, the colorful pushpins holding up various community event posters digging into her back. "That's pretty impressive for a small company."

"I know. I've been keeping my job here as a safety net, in case it didn't work out. But looks like we're going to be just fine . . . Aha!"

With a flourish, Wendy plucked a business card out of her bag and passed it over to Alex with a smile.

"My husband is always looking for talent to join his team. I think you would be amazing. I've been talking you up, and he's hoping you'll give him a call."

Alex tilted the card in the light so the lettering of _Top Tier Investigations_ twinkled.

"That's nice of you Wendy, really. I'm flattered. It's just not in the cards for me. Not looking for anything new right now."

"I get it." Wendy shrugged, thin shoulders rising and falling beneath her purple blazer. "I know it's a downgrade from New York City Major Case, both in terms of pay and status. If anything ever changes though . . . Keep the card."

The two women exited the building together, pushing through the glass foyer doors out onto the concrete steps, chatting amiably about Wendy's upcoming vacation. Across the street in the small park, children ran between swing sets and jungle gyms while parents observed from wooden benches.

They had gone down three steps when Alex caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and stopped dead in her tracks.

Bobby was parked across the street a few spaces down from the precinct. He was leaning against his Jeep, gaze travelling up and down the street, assessing the environment like the veteran detective he was behind dark sunglasses. When he finally caught sight of her, he raised a hand in greeting, looking smashingly handsome and sending Alex's stomach somersaulting.

Realizing that her companion had slammed on the brakes, Wendy stopped as well, glancing back at Alex with a frown before following her gaze. When she noticed Bobby, she broke into a toothy grin.

"Well, well. Is that the reason you had such a great fourth of July?"

Alex felt her cheeks burn a telltale crimson. "That's just my partner. Former partner I mean. Professional partner. We worked together at Major Case."

"Ahh, the infamous Bobby," Wendy murmured with a knowing nod. "He's cute."

"He's a great guy, a really great guy," Alex babbled, clutching the strap of her purse. "Great cop too."

_Why the hell are you still talking?_

"Well, better not keep your great guy waiting." Wendy winked at her with a waggle of her eyebrows. "Have a safe trip back to New York. And don't forget the card."

As Alex descended the remainder of the stairs and crossed over to the other side of the street, her heart started hammering in her chest. She had disappeared that morning before they had a chance to talk, slipping out of his bed while he still slumbered in order to get back to the rental and grab her work clothes. For the first time, she worried suddenly that maybe he wasn't feeling the same sense of elation that she had been enjoying.

_He could very well be here to tell you that last night was a big mistake. You need to prep yourself for that. _

"Bobby?"

The man in question pushed his sunglasses onto the top of his head, smiled at her warmly and nodded in the direction of the precinct. "How'd it go today?"

"Good."

"Good."

They stood there awkwardly, Bobby fidgeting and Alex clutching her bag as if it were a life preserver. The rules of their engagement were suddenly no longer clear.

_Should I give him a hug. A kiss? Is that appropriate? Is that what he wants? What are we now?_

"So . . ." Settling on the safest bet, Alex broke the silence with a question. "What're you doing here?"

Expression eager, Bobby ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath.

"Would you go out to dinner with me?"

* * *

They selected a small Italian restaurant down by the waterfront.

Housed in a converted Victorian, the interior was cozy, old-fashioned and excessively decorated. Tables were small, circular, generously spaced and covered in plastic-coated red and white checkered tablecloths. The space would have, at best, accommodated around thirty people and only half of that was occupied, affording the current patrons a fair modicum of privacy. Traditional Italian music issued from the speaker system as waiters flitted discreetly between tables, balancing bottles of water and wine on silver trays.

_We've stepped into a scene from Lady and the Tramp. That's fitting somehow. We are quite the unlikely duo._

The restaurant was only a short walk from the precinct, but Alex had struggled to keep up her end of the conversation, her train of thought often interrupted by flashbacks of the previous night and lingering questions about the future. She had been hoping Bobby would reach out and take her hand, wrap his arm around her, something, but he assiduously avoided all physical contact while he rambled on about some idiot who had been tailgating him all the way into the city.

Remembered sensations continued to distract her as they perused the menus, selected a wine and silently absorbed the ambiance. The feeling of his hands on her body. The heat of his mouth. The sensation of him releasing inside her_. _Her body recalled it all clearly and by the time the waiter returned to their table with the wine, she was hungry for something that had nothing at all to do with food. Her eventual entrée selection was made of necessity, not true desire.

When the waiter had vanished again, Bobby took another deep breath and exhaled slowly, wringing his hands nervously in his lap above his linen napkin.

"So . . . last night . . ."

Alex leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs beneath the tablecloth. A small knot of anxious dread still lingered, paining her side like a kidney stone. Her response was careful, measured, not wanting to show all her cards until she had a better sense of what he was holding.

"What about it?"

"Was I . . . was it . . . uh . . . you know . . . are you okay?"

The ridiculousness of the question caused Alex to burst out laughing. A few diners glanced in her direction curiously so she quickly stifled it.

"Yes, Bobby. I'm more than okay."

He looked relieved in a childish and immensely endearing way. "So no regrets?"

Alex smiled. "Absolutely none."

Bobby reached across the table, holding out his hand, palm up, and she slipped her hand into his. "I was worried things were going to be a little weird between us . . . you know, after. It's a pretty pivotal turning point in our, uh, relationship."

"It is. And yet somehow, it felt . . ." Alex shrugged. "Almost natural, you know? Like it was destined somehow to be."

The way Bobby's face lit up made her feel warm inside.

"It did, didn't it? So I guess the real question now is . . . what are we?"

Some of the joy drained reluctantly from her bucket and Alex sighed. "That I don't know. I mean, I'm only in Maine for a little more than a week probably."

Bobby nodded, as if he anticipated that caveat was going to be forthcoming. He surely had.

"And NYC to Portland would be a pretty long distance romantic relationship."

"It would be," Alex agreed, rearranging the silverware in front of her absently. "I don't think either one of us is really looking for that at this point in our lives."

"No, probably not." Bobby's tone had grown flat but his expression held no vestiges of anger or even sadness, just resigned acceptance.

The waiter reappeared at that moment, brandishing a white linen lined basket of bread. They fell silent as he put it on the table, along with a colorful array of spreads, and then disappeared again.

"I wish we had figured this out earlier," Alex mumbled morosely, removing a slice of bread from the basket but leaving it untouched on her side plate. "When you were still in New York. Maybe things could have been different. But we've got roots now, in separate states. You have this little slice of heaven here. And I have a job, and family back in the city. For now, I think it's best that we remain friends."

"I understand." Bobby twisted the base of his wineglass in clockwise circles on the tablecloth. "I just want you to know that if things were different, I would want us to be so much more than that."

Alex squeezed his hand lightly before releasing it, smiling weakly.

"I know. Me too."

Rubbing a hand over his face, Bobby sat up straighter, making a physical effort to gather himself together. "So next question then. Does that mean that last night was a one time only thing? Never to happen . . . you know . . . again?"

Alex chuckled dryly, her weak smile now morphing into something positively wicked.

"Jeez, I really hope not. Surely you've heard of friends with benefits, Goren?"

* * *

That night, the worst nightmare she had had in a very long time tore her from sleep.

As the dreamt explosion hurled her back through the emergency exit like a rag doll, Alex shot upright, gasping for air, hands clutching at her throat. Her sleep-addled but amplified senses scanned the room, frantically seeking the threat, muscles so tight they may as well have been constructed from rebar. She had to lower her head between her knees to stop the room from spinning.

It was the sound of his deep voice and the touch of his fingertips on her bare back that reminded her that this time, she wasn't alone.

"I'm here. You're safe."

Bobby's light touch grounded and steadied her. He kept a safe distance between them and for that she was grateful; anything more would have been suffocating in her heightened state. Gradually her wits returned, her body visibly relaxed and she was able to quell the tremble in her hands.

"Are you okay?"

Sensing she had stabilized, Bobby slowly withdrew his hand. When she glanced over at him sheepishly, he was stretched out beside her, head propped up on one hand, the other resting on the gray duvet.

"Yeah, yeah." Alex shook her head, more embarrassed now than terrified. "I just need a bit of fresh air."

Sliding out of bed, she fumbled around in the dark for her clothes. When she couldn't readily find anything that was clearly hers, she quickly slipped on the collared navy blue button-up that Bobby had worn out to dinner. It was mammoth on her but would do the trick and her fingers played absently with the buttons as Alex crossed the living room and stepped out onto the deck. The wood planks were coarse against her bare feet and the warm night air dried her sweat and left her feeling clammy. The moon was obscured by clouds, turning the lake into a dark and foreboding black mass that extended out before her.

She had been out there for nearly twenty minutes when the sliding door opened and Bobby emerged out into the night.

"Can I . . . join you?"

When she nodded, he came to stand silently beside her along the deck's wooden railing, clad only in a pair of plaid boxer shorts.

"You know, just when I think I'm finally past that day . . . I'm not."

"Maybe you never will be," Bobby commented bluntly but gently, scratching his arm as he gazed out over the water. "You went through a hell of a . . . of a trauma."

"It's been over a year, Bobby."

He inclined his head in agreement. "Sure. But I don't think you can put a, uh, timeline on this."

"I know, but I want to." Alex's voice wavered slightly and she cleared her throat to steady it. "I just want to get back to the person I was before the incident."

Brushing her hair back from her face, Bobby let his thumb trace the small scar on her cheek. "That might not be unrealistic. What you went through . . . that does change you. Maybe forever. But it doesn't mean the change has to be for the, uh . . . worse."

"No, I have to," Alex stated firmly, unsure of whether she was trying to convince him or herself. "If I don't, I'll never get back to working real cases. I'll be stuck manning the tip lines forever."

Bobby looked at her for a long moment before speaking carefully, his tone intentionally neutral.

"Maybe it's time to walk away then, from the NYPD. Maybe that's what the universe is trying to tell you."

Closing her eyes, Alex chuckled. "The universe, huh? Since when did you go all spiritual? I'm too young to retire, Bobby. The hit to my pension . . . I couldn't afford it."

"Maybe it's not retirement then. Maybe it's moving on to something different."

_Déjà vu. Were you eavesdropping on my conversation with Wendy, Goren?_

Alex snorted derisively. "We can't all be the next great American writer Bobby. I'm a cop. That's what I do. Too young to retire, too old to do something different. It's the NYPD or bust. That has always been the plan. I don't know any other way."

"I felt the same Alex, I really did," Bobby said softly. "But there comes a time when the toll is just too . . . too great . . . and you have to step away. I got to that point. Maybe you're there too. Mentally, physically, emotionally, you don't owe the NYPD a damn thing."

She blew out a noisy sigh and shook her head. "This second career has worked well for you, Bobby. No denying that. It's just not for me. Not yet."

Coming around behind her, Bobby wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

"You know yourself best. You'll know when it's, uh, time."

Leaning back against his broad chest, Alex sighed.

"I feel like for the last year, I've been trapped in this fire, surrounded on all sides, with no escape. I'm worried that all that's left of me is ashes."

Bobby's arms tightened around her, enveloping her, soothing her, his voice soft in her ear as he whispered, "Hope rises like a phoenix from the ashes of shattered dreams."

A small smile twitched at the corner of Alex's lips. "S.A. Sachs."

She could feel his ensuing grin against her hair. "Very good."

They stood in silence for a few moments, listening to the invisible waves lap up on the shore. Gently, Bobby brushed her hair off to one side and lowered his mouth to the area where her neck met her collarbone, feathering kisses along the way. A pleasant shiver traversed up her spine and she tilted her head to facilitate his access. Encouraged, he teasingly moved one of his hands to the buttons on the front of her shirt, unbuttoning them deftly, exposing more and more skin. His free hand drew the collar of the shirt away from her neck and allowed him to nibble along her shoulder.

"Let's go back inside," Bobby murmured, his breath warm on her neck. "I need to make love to you again."

Her replying chuckle was throaty. "You don't NEED to. You WANT to."

"I beg to differ." Gently, he took one of her hands and guided it back to caress him. When she did, a primal, guttural noise issued from deep in his chest.

"I stand corrected," Alex whispered, her own body responding to the excitement in his. "Again? You're as bad as a teenager."

"You have no idea how many fantasies I have had about you over the years," Bobby mumbled, nuzzling the delicate area below her ear. "I've got a lot of catching up to do."

"Oh really?" With a smirk, Alex turned in his arms and let her hands roam over his bare chest. "Do tell."

Grabbing one of her hands and lifting it to his mouth, Bobby kissed her palm and looked her straight in the eye with a grin.

"Let's go back inside, and I'll, uh, tell you all about the one that starts with you looking sexy as hell in one of my shirts."


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Heart**

Her last week in Maine went fast. Too fast.

Days were full of teaching and testing, evenings of laughter and lovemaking. By the final day of class, she was finally able to acknowledge that, no matter how the opportunity had come to present itself, she had brought value to the role. Feedback from students and the police chief had been glowing and a glimmer of her former confidence had returned. In the evenings, she cherished the time she spent relaxing with Bobby, preparing meals, watching movies or sitting quietly on the deck and taking pleasure in the soothing sounds of nature. Each night as she lay next to him in bed, her appreciation for a more leisurely life grew.

It wasn't perfect - she missed her family, the buzz of activity, the food and the culture, her position with Major Case – but she had settled into a comfortable rhythm that had otherwise eluded her. As her time at the cabin drew to a close, she began to dread the return to her lonely apartment and the tip line.

"Thanks for picking me up at the airport."

Balancing her cell phone between her shoulder and her ear, Alex folded a sweater and tucked it carefully into her suitcase, smoothing out the wrinkles. The late morning sun poured in through the window, creating squares of light on the duvet and glinting off the chrome of her luggage.

"It's no problem."

On the other end of the line, her sister Liz's voice was weary. The source of her malaise became apparent when Alex heard the sound of children screaming in the background.

"I'm sure you're super eager to get back. As you can hear, you're missing lots of fun."

Alex chuckled lightly as she wrapped up the cord of her hair straightener and tucked it into the front pouch of her duffel bag. "Can't say I miss the fighting. But I do miss you and the kids."

"Maybe we could trade places," Liz suggested. The sound of a door closing muted some of the background fracas. "You come here, I go out there, where it's quiet, from some R&R."

"We should plan a trip here sometime, really," Alex agreed, the springs squeaking as she lowered herself down on the bed. "It's quite therapeutic."

"I can tell." Liz stifled a sudden sneeze. "Honestly, Al, you sound the best I have heard you in a really long time."

"I feel the best I have in a really long time," Alex admitted, fiddling with the delicate gold bracelet that circled her narrow wrist.

"And to what do you attribute that?" She could hear the smile in her sister's voice over the phone line. "The setting or the sex?"

Alex rolled her eyes and grinned. "A little bit of column A, a little bit of column B."

"So why the hell ARE you coming back? Really?"

Her smile melted like a sandcastle enveloped by the tide. "It's where my life is, Liz. My job, my family, my friends."

"So get a new job. It's not like you're loving the tip line. You've got Bobby there, and you can make new friends. As for family, well, there are lots of ways to keep in touch nowadays."

Alex pinched the bridge of her nose, frowning. "I don't want to miss the kids growing up."

"I know, but that's what video chats and visits are for," Liz intoned with mock impatience. "You're not exactly halfway across the world you know. It's just a different state."

"It wouldn't be the same."

"No, it wouldn't," Liz agreed readily. "It might be even better. Because you would be happy and enjoying life again. Look, you know we love you, right?"

Alex watched a grasshopper land on the screen of the window, stretching out its long legs and basking in the bright sunlight. "I know."

"We would miss having you close, for sure. But the kids are growing up fast and soon they'll have their own lives. Where will that leave you? Sitting at home alone wishing you had taken this chance on love, on Bobby?"

"Well that's a real cheerful vision of my future," Alex muttered dryly, tucking her hair behind her ears. The movement made her cell phone slip and she snagged it before it fell.

"Maybe not. But is it wrong?"

_Probably not._

Movement out of the corner of her eye caught Alex's attention and she twisted on the bed to see Bobby standing in the doorway, messing with his tie. Raising his eyebrows, he mouthed _You ready?_

"I've got to go Liz." Alex stood and smoothed her burgundy dress down over her legs. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

* * *

They held Mia's Celebration of Life in a large tent outside the family's cabin.

As Bobby and Alex walked down his neighbor's winding driveway, they could hear the snap of the top tent flaps in the hot breeze and the chime of laughter. The gravel path was uneven and she stepped carefully, wary of rolling an ankle in her heels. Although Bobby had a much longer stride, he shortened it automatically to keep pace with her. His warm hand, wrapped around hers, steadied her physically but the distant look in his eyes suggested he was miles away mentally.

The inside of the tent was bursting with friends and family, the mood surprisingly jovial considering the circumstances. Guests milled around, telling stories, hugging and laughing. Even tears were normally accompanied by a smile. Poster size pictures of Mia spread out along the periphery, leaning on easels. A silent video montage played on a screen that stood at the end of the tent opposite the door beside an oak podium. The folding chairs set up in the middle of the space were mostly vacant, with attendees choosing to stand in packs around the tables offering food and drink instead.

"I'm going to get a bottle of water," Alex said once they had found an open space to stand in the crowd, squeezing Bobby's hand lightly before she released it. "You want anything?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm okay."

"My finely tuned detective instincts tell me that that's a lie." Alex leaned into him and linked her arm through his. "You've been so quiet."

Bobby smiled down at her, brushing a chunk of hair out of her face. "I'm fine. Just . . . sad."

"I know, it's a hard day." Alex pressed her cheek against his bicep. "She's not in pain anymore though. She went quietly, suddenly, in her sleep. Best case scenario, short of a cure."

"Yeah."

Bobby didn't sound convinced and she could feel a telltale tension in the muscles of his arm. When she turned her head to look up at him, he leaned down and kissed her softly. She was surprised, pleasantly, having felt uncertain all day about how open he would be in publicly promoting their relationship given the recency of his breakup, but there was no hesitation or shame in the gesture.

When he drew back, Alex's emotions pressed up against the back of her teeth, fighting to be released.

_Tell him you love him. Just say it. Today of all days, he needs to hear it. _

But she couldn't.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

* * *

By the time Alex squeezed through the crowd to the refreshments table, waited in line, and stopped to say hi to a few people she had been introduced to at the benefit, her position at Bobby's side had been usurped.

By Faith.

The sight of the two of them standing there talking stopped Alex dead in her tracks and sent her sliding behind a cluster of people to stay out of sight. She was too far away to hear what they were saying, but if the conversation were heated, it wasn't apparent from either of their expressions. Bile scoured the back of her throat as she watched Faith grip one of his elbows as she spoke. It took all she had to not stalk over and claim her territory.

_He won't be your territory after tomorrow. Once you're gone, he can see whomever he wants. Maybe he will even end up back with Faith . . . _

The possibility made her want to erupt in tears and sent her stomach contracting so painfully that it was reminiscent of labor. Thinking about Faith, about anyone, being with Bobby, her best friend, her love, was torture. The physical reaction that accompanied the thought shocked her and simultaneously spoke volumes. She had abandoned reason when she had allowed herself to acknowledge her feelings and then act on them, she knew that. But she had and now there was no turning back, no more lying to herself. It was Bobby or bust.

The cracking of the plastic water bottle in her grip brought her back to the present. People had begun migrating to the folding chairs and, at the far side of the tent, someone tested the microphone on the podium. As her cover dissipated and left her standing there, exposed, both Bobby and Faith caught sight of her. Faith looked away quickly, made one final inaudible comment, and then gave Bobby a hug. Alex looked away, seething, and by the time she looked back, Faith had disappeared and Bobby stood there alone, watching her.

Taking a deep breath to calm her raging sympathetic nervous system, Alex jolted back into motion and sidled up to Bobby slowly, eyebrows raised. She tried to keep her voice casual, desperate to hide anything more than a passing interest in the preceding interaction.

"Everything good?"

Bobby nodded. "I think they're ready to get started. We should, uh . . . grab a seat."

* * *

Immediately after the Celebration of Life, Alex made a phone call.

* * *

After dinner that night, she found him sitting alone at the end of the dock, staring out over the lake.

It was a bit of déjà vu, Alex reflected as she padded barefoot along the length of the wooden lane, the occasional splinter poking at the soles of her feet. It was where he had found her that first night in Maine, lost in misery. So much had changed since that day and yet it was somehow fitting that they would end up back at the same place on her last night.

_Full circle. _

The water was still and stained bright orange by the slowly setting sun. In the distance, a canoe sliced through the water, leaving the barest trace of a ripple in its wake. Closer to shore, a family of mallards paddled expertly over the unblemished surface, stopping occasionally to duck below the water in search of a meal. The glare of the light off the water was blinding and she had to squint to make out Bobby's silhouette as she approached.

"Can I join you?"

"Of course."

Without looking at her, Bobby shimmied over to the right. Alex lowered herself down in the open space he had created and dipped her feet in the water beside his. The lake had warmed considerably since she first arrived and it felt akin to bathwater around her toes.

They hadn't spoken at all that day about her impending departure, both afraid that doing so would burst the warm bubble in which they had cocooned themselves. The mere mention would make it a reality that neither wanted to face. With the day drawing to a close however, a discussion was both inevitable and necessary.

"So . . . you, uh . . . all packed up?"

"Yep."

Bobby nodded slowly, watching a long-legged spider skitter across the wood beside him and disappear over the edge. "You've got to be glad to be getting home."

"Not as glad as I thought I would be," Alex murmured, leaning against him and closing her eyes. "But I'm sure you'll be glad to be rid of me and have your cabin back to yourself."

"We both know that's not true." Bobby's tone was flat, expressionless. "It'll be hard to go from seeing each other every day again, to . . . not, you know."

"We'll stay in touch this time," Alex stated firmly, letting one hand drop onto Bobby's thigh. "I promise."

They felt silent as the crest of the sun crept closer and closer to the horizon. The family of ducks cruised by in front of them, adults watching the couple warily and the couple watching back. Deciding to err on the side of caution, the male mallard picked up the pace and the conga line zipped quickly past.

"You never told me. What did Faith have to say, at the Celebration of Life?"

Alex was bursting at the seams to tell Bobby about her phone call earlier that afternoon, but she held back, needing desperately to know the answer to that question before making any admission.

Bobby took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Not much."

"She giving you a hard time . . . about us?"

"No, nothing like that."

_More info, man, come on!_

Alex cleared her throat. "You thinking maybe you'll get back together . . . after I'm gone?"

Bobby chuckled lightly. "No. That's not going to happen."

"You never know."

"No, I do know," Bobby said, a small smile appearing on his face as he covered her hand with his. "Because I'm going to take her advice. I'm moving back to New York. To be with you."

Shocked, Alex turned to face him incredulously. "What?"

"That's what we talked about. Me finally following my heart. Wherever that takes me."

"Bobby, you can't," Alex protested. "This is your happy place. You love it here."

"I do," Bobby insisted, reaching out to touch her chin with his thumb. "But I love you more."

Her eyes prickled with tears and she blinked rapidly to push them back. "I love you too."

"I know," Bobby whispered, leaning forward to kiss her. She melted into him, into his kiss, into his arms and the last flickers of the flame that had been licking at her soul, reducing her to ash, finally extinguished.

They kissed until they were both breathless, and then kissed a little longer. When they finally broke apart, she traced his lips with her fingers.

"Well that's great and all, you moving to New York. There's just one problem."

Bobby frowned, the lines between his eyes creasing. "What's that?"

Reaching into the pocket of her jean shorts, Alex withdrew a copy of the job offer that she had printed from her email earlier that evening. She unfolded it carefully and, with just enough light remaining for him to read it, handed it over.

"I'm going to be here in Maine."


	14. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

**Ten months later . . .**

He had dedicated his book to her.

It was a simple inscription that stood out on the otherwise blank page, the black ink bold against the off-white paper.

_For Alex._

_Kismet._

Every time she opened the book, she revisited that page, ran a finger over the words, cherished them. He hadn't told her that he was going to do that and the first time she saw it, in the advance copy that he had proudly handed her to read, she had become embarrassingly emotional.

The book itself had been a flood of nostalgia. The cases, the criminals. The highs, and the lows. As she devoured each chapter, she reminisced most about her partnership with Bobby. The moments where they were completely in sync, and those when they could not possibly have been further apart. The book was a memoir of sorts, a memoir of their partnership, and as she read the final page she was overcome with a sense of gratitude for what they had and where that had brought her. And what they still had now.

Spring had arrived at the overlook. The waterfall had thickened with the spring thaw and it cascaded heavily down from the ledge above. The coarse, dead grass of winter had been replaced by a thick green carpet and birds hopped about on it, searching for food. The forest surrounding the overlook had rejuvenated once again and enclosed the plateau in a curtain of foliage. As Alex finished the last paragraph, a rabbit sat munching on the fresh grass a few feet away and the scent of spring flowers perfumed the air.

Alex lingered for a moment on the picture on the back flyleaf, remembering how he had agonized that day over what he should wear, stalking back and forth between the mirror and where she sat, cross-legged on the bed, evaluating his options. She was pleased with the final selection; it brought out his eyes beautifully. She felt a rush of affection as she smiled at the familiar face in a very new place. The book had been brilliant, and she felt such pride in the man that grinned back at her from the glossy paper.

_You've come a long way, Robert Goren. I'm lucky you decided to bring me along for the ride._

Her eyes absently scanned the bio that accompanied the photo, aware that that brief synopsis wouldn't tell her anything new and exciting about the man that she had known for so many years. It was only the last sentence that caught her attention:

_Robert currently resides in Maine with his wife._

Alex chuckled as she closed the book, running a hand over the smooth back cover that featured accolades from other true crime writers who had reviewed the book.

_Wrong-o! That's what you get for using a boiler plate to create these things. Not quite. _

The thought however sent a warm tingle seeping through her body as she maneuvered herself out of her portable lounge chair and stretched. It was a nice notion. She had never been eager to re-marry after Joe - for a while she wasn't sure if she ever would - but with time comes healing and the idea no longer seemed implausible. In fact, it felt almost desirable.

_Maybe someday._

Bobby was standing across the plateau, leaning on the metal barricade that protected visitors from tumbling down the drop-off below the overlook. His arms were folded along the top, his eyes squinting into the sun as he watched a hawk circle and dive. He turned to look at her with a smile as she came to lean against the barricade beside him.

"So . . ?" Bobby raised his eyebrows in anticipation. "All done? What did you think?"

"It's brilliant, Bobby, it really is. Honestly." Grinning, Alex opened the book to the last page and held it out in his direction. "There's just one pretty significant error."

Bobby frowned, stepping back from the barricade and craning his neck to see what she was talking about. "There is? What?"

Alex slid her finger down the flyleaf until it arrived at the last sentence, her expression mock serious. "It says here you are residing in Maine with your wife. Either that's a typo, or you've been leading a double life and you owe me an explanation."

Bobby's face relaxed and a smile once again lit up his features.

"Oh, that."

Taking one step back, Bobby reached into his pocket as he slowly lowered himself down to one knee. When he withdrew a small black velvet box, Alex's hands flew up to her mouth. She could tell his hands were shaking because it took him a second to get the lid open, revealing a simple but elegant diamond ring that sparkled in the sunlight.

"Bobby . . ." Alex gasped, the word muffled through her hands.

He smiled up at her, a brilliant, toothy Bobby smile. "I was hoping that by the time this book actually gets printed and makes it to the shelves, it would be true."

And it was.

* * *

_A/N – This story would not have been possible without the support, encouragement, and clever mind of my good friend WendyCR72. I am forever indebted to her. She put up with my crap and, as she quickly learned, that's not easy :)_

_Thank you to all of my loyal readers and reviewers. Your excitement about the story kept me writing. I appreciate you hanging in there even when it seemed that our heroes were never going to end up together. I hope the ending makes up for it!_

_Cheers,_

_Maddie_


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